


Saga Of the Wardens

by katriona_subasa



Series: Saga of Thedas [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Novelization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 123
Words: 434,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katriona_subasa/pseuds/katriona_subasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four young adults with little in common, suddenly thrown into a desperate fight against an enemy thought lost to the ages, find themselves charged with the fate of Thedas. Witness their struggles as they attempt to pick up broken pieces, forge alliances, and create the miracle that shakes the age. Everything begins with Origins. (Multi-Warden Novelization of Origins).<br/>(This work also appears on Fanfiction.Net. I'm just posting it here too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue: Musings**

_Thedas - Year 9:29_

* * *

The old woman stretches as she lingers in the doorway, grimacing at the stiffness of her joints and skin. Glancing to make sure her daughter still sleeps in the hut hidden deep in the wild forest, she sheds away the old hag guise. She's grown horribly bored of it and wonders if she will be able to change soon. But what to change to? An older guise like what she wears now or something younger...

Her now smooth hands brush against some papers hidden near the door, capturing her attention. Treaties from ages gone by, protected by her when their seals disappeared. She wonders if any even remember that they had ever existed. She wonders if they just disappeared from memory, as all things of the past do...

Frowning, she gathers magic into her palm, swirls it into a sphere, a window to the past so that she never forgets as others do.

_(Hooded mages laughing in delight as their long and tedious ritual finally took hold, stepping into the Fade with bloody hands and feet into the hidden city. Laughter turned to tortured screams as they are twisted into blackened, tainted monsters, set loose again in the realm of the living to corrupt and destroy everything.)_

She spins the image in the mage, rolling her eyes at the futile battles that swirled and disappeared into the magic sphere. She has no care for such things. Losses are never forgotten, or forgiven. She stops, however, when she sees a certain image blooming. One battle that did not end in futility. The battle that utterly changed the course of history.

_(They appeared out of nowhere. Mages, rogues, warriors. Dwarves, elves, humans. None of them carrying of lineage or past as they came from the very skies, borne by beautifully fierce griffons, to give Thedas the miracle it desperately longed for. Those who took in shadows to battle shadows and guard the light. Those who stood at the boundary of both. The Grey Wardens.)_

She watches for a time, smiling softly at their courage, before spinning the image again through history. Her smile disappears as she sees the same thing again and again and again. War, peace, and revolution. Life's endless waltz.

_(The woman shrouded in myth, who toppled the greatest empire, burning at the stake. The ancient Inquistion signing the Nevarran Accord, allowing the formation of the Chantry, Templars, Seekers, and Circle. The second homeland of the Elves conquered despite their long struggles, forced into slavery that is not slavery or to wander without a home. The heroic elf who took command of the Wardens to slaughter the darkspawn into hiding, causing them to slip into obscurity. The long struggle with the horned Qunari in the northern lands. The triumphant cheer of battered, broken, but stubborn and prideful rebels as they finally topple their sun-marked oppressors.)_

She stops the image suddenly at a more recent event, one she had not seen last she looked. She knows the warrior dressed in the armor of long gone assassins, a gift from the dragon-blooded king who made a promise to her long ago. The scamp of a thief who became the respected Commander of the Grey in this land of strength, freedom, and courage.

_(He races for something. Faster and faster, hoping he isn't too late. But he slows upon coming to the cliff, face falling at the corpses scattered there. Many were strangers, young soldiers who hadn't known what attacked them. Others, however, were twisted monsters he knew better than he would like. He examines each of the corpses, disposes of those who thought to trick him into lowering his guard, and looks out over the darkening horizon. He closes his eyes as he realizes what that darkness means.)_

So does she. "It is time."

_(A young mage with fiery curls woken in the middle of the night by templars, terrified out of her mind, but stubbornly showing only confidence. A young mage with fiery curls wielding swords and spells in a style long thought lost to the conquests of old gods.)_

"The dragons have returned from their ancient slumber."

_(A young hunter of the fallen kingdom studying the histories and practices of his people, hoping to protect his people from the ravages of the depraved. A younger hunter of the fallen kingdom slipping out of the shadows to strike one final, sacrificial blow.)_

"The shadows have risen from their hellish crypts."

_(A young elf of the city gritting his teeth as he labors for a handful of coins, tricking the surrounding strangers that he is meek and weak. A young elf of the city rallying tired soldiers with a single war cry as they liberate a besieged capital.)_

"The sparks of war have bloomed to foster bloodshed and betrayal."

_(A young noble chatting with his twin sister with a false smile, both watching the assassin that tries to make his way to their precious king. A young noble defending his new king's honor against the old hero of the River Dane.)_

"All points meet at the origin."

_(The twin sister with poisoned arrows and keen sight standing before a crowd of angry and betrayed lords. The new king, untried yet proud, encouraging both noble and commoner alike with unpracticed words. The wild apostate who holds a hidden heart and more secret motive as she begs her love to go through a ritual. The repentant singer who spins tales of grandeur of religion and history to bewitch and entertain. The alien general who finds himself trusting those he should consider nothing but trash. The undead healer stands tall as she advises and listens to the broken leaders who shoulder the world's burden. The feathered assassin protects his newfound friendships from those of his past who can never understand freedom. The fallen dwarf learning that he still has a modicum of pride and dignity left as he avenges his stoned house. The golem smiling at her old memories as she rallies her fellow immortal soldiers to go to war as they did in the past.)_

"Thedas's end has begun."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, basics warnings. Four Wardens (human mage, human noble, city elf, dalish elf). No dwarf Wardens as I loathe Orzammar more than I like the origins. However, they will still appear in the story. Not using dog (as I noticed a bad habit of forgetting he existed), but a fifth OC to fill in the gap, twin to human noble Warden (biased for that origin as it was the first I'd ever beat the game with). 
> 
> With all that said… welcome to the Saga?


	2. Chapter 1) Origin of Layla Amell

**Chapter 1) Origin of the Arcane Warrior, Hero of the Mages - Misplaced Trusts**

_Layla Amell POV_

* * *

" _Welcome to the Circle. The Power to command the Forces of Magic is yours, for a Price." These are the words all mages hear, even though it is never really said. Mages are people who have the ability to bend the perceptions of reality. Long ago, there was an empire who controlled the world, but did so through vile blood magic that brought nothing but ruin. Now, though, mages are placed into the Circle to protect us from the world and the world from us._

_My fellows have different reactions to this. Some believe they'd somehow sinned, punished for something they did before being born. Others are angry over being forced into a prison due to something given to them by the Maker. Still others believe that it is the non-mages who have sinned and wish to punish them for it. I… do not have an opinion, truly, save that the Maker made me a mage for a reason and that He is just in His decisions, as always._

_My greatest dream is for there to be peace between mages and non-mages, though. Would that not be lovely? A time where mages can stay with their families and not have to worry about being killed? A time where people thank us instead of throwing insults? A time where mages can appreciate the beauty that cannot come from magic, but from things only non-mages can do? Yes, I do believe it would be lovely. Surely, one day, it shall happen. …Right?_

* * *

I opened my eyes and shuddered at the twisted landscape before me. Though I was a mage, the Fade had never been a place of comfort to me. The reason why I was here, though, made it even worse. I was here for my Harrowing, my trial by fire. If I failed, I would die. If I succeeded, I would be accepted as an enchanter. All I had to do was resist temptation. I could do that. I hoped. Thankfully, Anders and Neria had already gone and given Jowan and me hints about the Harrowing. I would have been far more confused otherwise. Though I wished they had warned us about the templars appearing in the middle of the night and forcing you to be quiet. It had taken everything I had to pretend I was not afraid.

"So, someone else thrown to the wolves, as fresh and unprepared as ever," a deep voice suddenly whispered. "It isn't right that the templars do this, you know? Not to you or me or anyone."

I hunted around for the source of the voice. "Excuse me," I called politely. "But where are you, ser?"

"Right in front of you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look  _down_."

I did so and noticed the mouse sitting at my feet. "Oh, I am sorry, Ser Mouse."

"It's always the same," Ser Mouse sighed. "But it's okay. Not your fault. You're in the same boat I was, yes?" There was a flash of light and suddenly a man not much older than me stood in Ser Mouse's place. "Welcome to the Fade, young apprentice."

"I thank you." Did he say 'the same boat'? Well, that would mean… "So, you took the Harrowing too?" Since he was here when I was, though, he had likely… well, he had likely not survived it and was merely a spirit waiting to move on.

"Yes, I think so." He pressed a hand to his head, as if it hurt. "It's fuzzy, the time before. They woke me in the night and dragged me to the Chamber and then…" He glared at the empty air. "They kill you if you take too long, you see. They figure you failed and don't want something getting out. That's what they did to me. I have no body to reclaim. Just another lost apprentice, wandering about this twisted place."

"You are wearing the robes of a senior enchanter, though," I pointed out. Realizing that could be taken as rude, I gasped. "Oh, I am so sorry! That was… um…"

"No, it's fine. I… never noticed." He glanced down and grimaced. "I… must've changed my robes during my trial. I'm sorry. As I mentioned, it's a blur."

"It is no trouble." The Fade did bend to the will of mages. Changing clothes seemed perfectly reasonable.

"Regardless, you don't have much time before you end up like me."

"Then do you know what I must do? I know there are demons here, but I am confused otherwise."

"There's something here, contained just for you." He glanced around before stepping closer. "You have to face the demon and resist it.  _That_  is your way out. Well, or your opponent's, but that's what the templars are for." He smiled sardonically. "That's what the Harrowing is. It's a test for you, and a tease for the Fade's creatures."

"So, I must kill a demon." I frowned at that, though. Yes, Neria had mentioned fighting demons, but surely it was more difficult than that. This was the final test, after all.

"One with power and cunning, yes. You will have to be wary."

"Do you know where it is?"

"I… do. But first, I sense others here. Perhaps you can talk to these Spirits and see if they can help?"

"I see." I curtseyed to him. "I thank you, Ser Mouse."

"You are… strange." His smile was warm. "If I may, I would like to accompany you. My chance was long ago, but you… you still have yours."

"My thanks!" I was always up for a new friend, after all.

"Follow me, then." Smiling slightly, Ser Mouse carefully led me past an area ringed with fire, taking my hand when he thought I was veering too close. "We'll avoid there for now," he explained, tugging me close. "That's where the demon is and you'll want to be as prepared as possible."

"If you say so, Ser Mouse," I replied, gripping his hand tightly. A sight caught my eye, though. It was a spirit who stood near a glowing weapons' rack. "Who is that?"

"A spirit who never seems quite equal to his name. He's one of the ones I sensed earlier, it seems."

"Might I talk to him?"

"If you are careful. I will not be able to save you if he attacks, though."

"Then I suppose I had best make sure it does not come to a fight." I smiled at Ser Mouse. "I think I shall be fine, though."

"Good luck." He stayed behind as I approached the spirit. "Hello," I said to it. "My name is Layla."

"Ah, another mortal thrown into the flames to either burn into dust or rise from the ashes, I see," the spirit greeted, turning to face me. "I am Valor." I noted he took the appearance of a templar wearing a face-covering helmet and wondered if that was the form he chose or the form my mind chose to perceive. "You mortals have chosen quite the cowardly test."

"Is that so?" That was not something I expected to hear.

"Why yes. Better you were pitted against each other to prove your mettle than to be sent unarmed against demons. Both loser and victor could pass in those circumstances."

"But that would not prove our ability to stand against the demons' cunning ways, would it?"

"The demons are not as cunning as you humans strive so much to believe, but that is not your fault. The choice lies, of course, with those who sent you here."

"That is… true." I could see the reason in his words. I had yet to meet a dangerous demon, after all.

"Regardless, that you are here means you have not yet defeated your hunter. I wish you a glorious battle to come."

"I thank you for it." I glanced to the forge and the weapons on the rack. "Did you make these, though?"

"Yes, I willed them into being." He gentled touched the forge and I imagined he was smiling. "I understand that in your world, mages are the only ones who can forge reality. Those who cannot must lead such hollow, empty lives."

"Actually, they seem quite happy with their ability to create things with their own two hands and hard work," I corrected sourly. Then, of course, I realized how rude I was being. "Begging your pardon, of course, Ser Valor."

"You keep an insolent tongue in your head, but I can see great will behind it." He looked up to study me. "Yes, great will indeed. More than enough to combat the demon, I dare say. You… will need it."

"Ser Valor?"

"Time does not flow the same here as it does in your world. Thus, we Spirits can see things that are… invisible to the mortals, or even the mages." He stepped towards me, looking me right in the eyes. They glowed unnervingly. "I see a glorious battle in your future, matched by an even more glorious destiny. I shall wish, however, you do not have such a  _glorious_  funeral." He reached out and patted my shoulder. "Strengthen yourself, young warrior, to survive your trials to come. This Harrowing of yours… it will not be the worse that you face."

"That is confusing, Ser Valor. I am a mage, who shall remain in the Tower."

"Then perhaps, child, that Tower is not going to stay." …Pardon? "I must go. Another Spirit, Justice, wanders near and I would confer with him. Prove your worth to those who demand it. I know you shall do so." Before I could say anything more, he stepped away, vanishing into the strange air of the Fade.

"That was odd."

"I told you. He does not seem equal to his name," Ser Mouse whispered in my ear. He laughed when I yelped. "My apologies. I couldn't resist."

"You must have been quite the prankster," I muttered quietly. "Are there any other spirits?"

"Well, yes. One more. A Sloth Demon."

I knew my studies. Sloth demons were perhaps even more powerful than Pride Demons, but were limited by their innate laziness, and the laziness they inspired in their victims. "May I talk to him?"

"I won't be able to protect you."

"That is all right. I think I will be fine." So long as I did not lose my sense of purpose, I should be able to resist the Sloth Demon. That, at least, was what my studies said. I had faith in my teachers. After all, they  _were_  Irving and Wynne.

"If you say so." Ser Mouse sighed. "This is so not a good idea."

Ignoring his negativity, I approached the creature in the distance that I assumed was the Sloth Demon. It had taken the form of an  _extremely_  odd bear, with bone protruding from its back and face and strange crimson and pink fur. "Hello there," I greeted politely. It stirred slightly, as if asleep. "I hope I am not bothering you."

"So, you are the mortal being hunted this time?" it asked sleepily. He lazily opened one eye to study me. "I see. What of this small one? Shall he be a snack for me?"

"I would say not!" I yelped as Ser Mouse squeaked and ducked behind me.

"I don't like this," he whispered quickly. "We should go."

"Please, hold on a moment."

"It doesn't matter," the Sloth Demon sighed, slowly pushing himself up. "The demon will get you eventually, and perhaps there will be scraps left."

"I do not suppose you would help me," I asked softly. It would not do to show fear to a demon. I remembered the lessons well. Fear was one way a demon could get inside your head. Mages could  _never_  fear.

"Help you?" He laughed. " _Nothing_  can help you, little mage." He yawned loudly. "Begone. Surely you have better things to do that bother me. I tire of you already, mortal."

"Then perhaps you should just give me advice or a lesson? Perhaps you can show me how to change my form?" Something of that nature  _would_  be of great use.

"That is a magic I cannot teach you. You do not know the old arts, and are too attached to your human form." He stared at Ser Mouse, though. "That one, though… he could learn, I suppose. He is not so attached."

"Oh, I don't think I'd make a good bear," Ser Mouse immediately dismissed. "I mean; how would I hide?"

"There are times when you cannot hide, yes?" I asked hesitantly. "Perhaps it will be useful to learn for the times you cannot get away."

"I… suppose." He shook slightly. "I have seen more of this place than you can imagine. More of its dangers. But perhaps you are right. I'll try, at least."

"That's nice," the Sloth demon sighed. "But teaching is  _so_  exhausting." He glanced at me. "Ah, but perhaps your friend can provide me with some entertainment."

"What would you like me to do?" I asked, keeping my tone even.

"Answer three riddles correctly, and I shall teach the small one. Fail, and I shall eat you both."

"Then let us begin."

"Truly?" He sounded surprised. "Ah, this gets more and more promising." He chuckled softly. "My first riddle is this. I have seas with no water, coasts with no sand, towns without people, mountains without land. What am I?"

Ah, it was one of these sorts of riddles. Jowan  _loved_  them. So, let me think this through. You cannot have sea without water, unless you were looking at a picture. But it would have to be a picture that showed seas, coasts, towns,  _and_  mountains. There was no singular place with all those things, though, so you would have to look at a bigger picture, much like a map. …Oh! "You are a map."

"You are correct." He did not sound happy. "Let's move on. The second riddle: I am rarely touched, but often held. If you have wit, you'll use me well. What am I?"

There was no doubt about this one. After all, I had grown up with Anders and Anders, being clever and witty, was often told to hold his tongue. "You are a tongue."

"Yes, and quite the clever one, you are. Fair enough. Once more." This would be the final. "Often will I spin a tale, never will I charge a fee. I'll amuse you an entire eve, but, alas, you won't remember me. What am I?"

So, something that spins a tale, but does not charge for it. That would be like someone telling bedtime stories to a child. Yet those sorts of people would not entertain you an entire night. Someone who would likely would not be someone you forgot. Wait, no, I should not focus on a  _person_. All of the other answers had been objects. So, what was something a person did through the night, but often forgot when morning came? …Well, Neria had been complaining about not remembering her dreams lately. "Are you a dream?"

"You are correct," he huffed. "Rather apropos here in the Fade, no?" He sighed. "You have won my challenge and proven yourself an amusing distraction. So, I shall teach you my form, small one. Now, listen carefully." He lumbered forward and whispered something into Ser Mouse's ear.

It took a couple of tries, but soon, Ser Mouse had taken the form of a bear. "Like this?" he asked. "Am I one? It feels… heavy."

"Close enough." The Sloth Demon sprawled back onto the ground. "Go now and defeat your demon, little mortal. I grow weary of you. Still, perhaps I shall volunteer for the next mage encounter. You  _did_  prove entertaining, if only for a mortal."

"I thank you again," I murmured, curtseying to him. It was best to be polite. If I got out of here, though, I would do my best to warn Irving about this.

"So, do you think you are ready for the demon?" Ser Mouse asked me. His voice was far more suitable for the bear form he wore.

"Well, I am not sure I did really anything," I sighed. "But I have faith in my abilities. I worked hard for them, after all." Though not even Wynne had been able to help me move past that incident. I  _still_  could not cast the upper level spells. "I am also not just a simple healer. I learned offensive magic first!"

"I think you'll be fine. Come on!" He raced ahead. "Let's go!"

Laughing, I followed him to the area ringed with fire, the place where I would have to face a demon. As soon as Ser Mouse and I entered it, the air hissed and the ground glowed red. A Rage Demon dragged itself out of the ground, cackling all the while. "And so it comes to me at last!" it triumphantly cried. "Soon, I shall see the land of the living with your eyes, creature! You shall be  _mine_ , in body and soul!"

"I would rather not," I replied softly. "Would you instead consider retreating? There  _are_  two of us."

"Amusing. Have you not told it of our… arrangement, Mouse?" Pardon?

"We don't have an arrangement," Ser Mouse snapped. "Not anymore, at least. This one is strong and capable. I won't let you snuff her out!"

"After all those lovely meals we shared, now the mouse changes the rules?"

"I'm no longer  _just_  a mouse! I don't need to bargain with you."

"We shall see, as I feast upon your pet's bones!"

"I will not allow it!" he roared, leaping forward and biting the Rage Demon. I used the time Ser Mouse bought me to put some distance between the demon and me. Rage demons were weak in power, but their physical strikes could spell disaster for many mages. Few of us were  _physically_  strong, after all.

"Feeble minded…!" The Rage Demon snapped, throwing a fireball at Ser Mouse to get him off. "Wait your turn!" It advanced to where I had run. "The _mage_  is mine!"

But I knew the chief weakness of Rage Demons. They were completely unable to handle chilling out. "Here me now, whispers of ice," I murmured, calling the magic to my hand. "Listen to my call and obey my thoughts." The Rage Demon loomed over me. "Cone of Cold, if you please." I waved my hand in front of me, helping the magic know where to go. Icicles leapt from the ground in front of me to impale the Rage Demon as he tried to attack.

"What… what is this?" it roared. It flailed about, trying to rid itself of the ice. "You have  _ice_!? This wasn't supposed to… I was told that you were…!"

"Farewell." I closed my eyes and whispered, "Winter's Grasp." Five pieces of ice formed in the air and converged onto the Rage Demon. It screeched as they dug into him, all the way to its core. As soon as it hit that, though, it was over. Just as humans would die if hit in the heart, spirits would fade if hit in their core. I watched as it melted back into the ground. Something about everything here was… unsettling.

"You did it!" Ser Mouse breathed, beaming at me as soon as he transformed back into his human self. "You actually did it!"

"That seemed too easy, though," I could not help but murmur.

"That is because you are a true mage, one of the few!"

"What of the ones before me?"

"I led them only after I sensed the templars cutting their lives. It seemed… more merciful." He looked away. "I regret my part, but you have shown me that there is hope! You can be so much more than you are!"

"Do you truly think so?"

"I know so. You defeated a demon, completed your test. With just a bit of time, you shall become a master enchanter, one without compare!"

I felt myself flush and smile. I'd always enjoyed being praised and… and… oh. Oh, no. "Ser Mouse?"

"Yes, my archmage?"

"That rage demon was not my true test, was it?"

"What? What are you talking about?" He sounded startled. Did I offend him? "Of course it was! What else here could possibly harm someone as powerful as you?"

"I…" My voice was soft. "I would think  _pride_ , Ser Mouse."

"…You are truly a smart one." He started laughing, his voice growing deeper and deeper. "Simple killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust…  _pride_." Ser Mouse's form changed shape again, this time to a Pride Demon, strongest of the demons.

"You lied to me?"

"It was quite fun, I assure you." He reached out and caressed my cheek. "Careful in the future, though. True tests never end."

He floated away as my vision blurred. What was this? Did I fail? No, I did not think so? So, was this… waking up…? Oh, Maker, I hoped so. I did not want to die, and everything was… blurry and shaky and...

* * *

Someone was shaking me. "Hey, are you all right?" There was more shaking. "Say something! Please…" Wait, I knew this voice.

"J-Jowan…?" I slurred, slowly stirring awake. I recognized the person sitting on my bed, even if he was a blurred mess of patches at the moment. "Jowan, what are…?"

"Easy, just try to relax." I could tell he was smiling. "Blink a few times. Come on, healer, you know the drill." I giggled and pushed myself up as my vision cleared to smile at Jowan. He was more of what I imagined when I thought of a mouse, what with his black hair and dark brown eyes. Of course, the thought of mice made me think of Mouse, the Pride Demon, and that just blackened my mood. "I'm so glad you're all right. You were carried in this morning. Most of us didn't even know you'd been gone."

"They were incredibly silent," I murmured, reassuring him. "They came suddenly in the middle of the night and told me not to make a noise. It was quite terrifying. I think I managed to hide it, though."

"Good. You know the 'rules'. Never show fear to a templar." He sighed. "I've heard about apprentices who never come back. Was it really that dangerous?"

"Well, it was aptly named." I had to be cautious about answering. Talking about the Harrowing was taboo to those who had not yet gone through. However, Jowan was one of my dearest friends, one of my big brothers even. Besides, Neria and Anders had given  _us_  little hints about what was to come after they'd passed. I was  _definitely_  going to do the same for Jowan. "You know how Anders said that it involved the Fade, and Neria mentioned demons?"

"Yeah?"

"Sometimes, the demons will pull a trick to make you kill other demons."

"Knowing me, I won't get a demon so crafty, but that's good to know." He sighed heavily. "Well, now you get to move and I'm now the last one stuck here in the apprentice quarters."

"Jowan, I know that they will call you soon," I reassured him with a smile.

"I know; I know. It's just that I've been here the longest. Sometimes, it feels like they just don't want to test me."

"You know that is not true. They test  _everyone_."

"The Tranquil aren't." I froze at the mention of the Tranquil. Former mages who had their connection to the Fade severed, they were completely without emotions. I went out of my way to avoid talking to them. They were like walking corpses. I would  _never_  see something more frightening than them.

"They will not kill you, Jowan."

"I hope so." He forced a smile. "Listen to me, wasting your time. I was supposed to tell you to see Irving when you woke up, not bother you with my problems."

"We are friends, Jowan. You would never bother me."

The doors to the apprentice dorms suddenly burst open, startling some of the gossiping pairs nearby. "Hey there, girl!" a cheerful voice cheered. Its owner appeared two seconds later with an equally cheerful smile. Wearing the gold-hemmed robes that marked her as an enchanter, Neria was even happier than normal. "All right! That's three of us passing. Jowan, you need to step up your game. Anders and me have already gone through the Harrowing and now little Layla has!"

"I am not little," I grumbled, pouting. Neria and I were the same height, except that she was a little short even by elf standards, so I was constantly teased.

"Yeah, yeah." She tossed her braid over her shoulder. I was pleased to see it back to its normal brown, seeing as an experiment just yesterday had turned it a disgusting lime-green! It had completely clashed with her green robes. "Whatever. Jowan? Leave."

"What, not even 'please'?" Jowan complained.

"Well, if you  _want_  to see Layla naked…"

"I'm gone!" Jowan yelped, bolting out of the dorms.

I could not help but laugh at his escape. "That was mean," I scolded half-heartedly.

"Yeah, but it  _is_  true," Neria replied with a grin. She reached for my robes and tugged them off. "Come now!"

"What? Wait, Neria, I am  _perfectly_  capable of dressing myself!" I ducked away and over to the closet I shared with two other apprentices. "Why am I changing, though?"

"Your robes smell of demons." Neria had sensitivity to demons that left many people baffled, and she often described them as 'scents'. "Get in a fight with a pride demon? That's the strongest."

"I would not call it a 'fight'," I muttered as I pulled a fresh robe over my head. Neria immediately appeared to help straighten it out. "It was my test, though."

"You got a  _pride_  demon? Wow, Layla, you've got some power behind you!" She laughed again and shoved me at one of the vanities.

I sighed as she rummaged about the drawers. "I would rather my hair not be tied up ridiculously."

"Of course not. Your hair looks  _best_  when it's down, after all. Aha!" She triumphantly brandished a brush and set about brushing my hair for me. "Oh, I wish I had your hair. All red and gold curls. They go great with your eyes, you know. So jealous."

I knew she was also jealous that my eyes were still brown. Her first sign of magic had been changing  _her_  originally brown eyes to pale lavender, and that was something that no one ever seemed to be able to reverse. However, she would never say so, and I would never bring it up. "You can have it," I joked to her. "It is always frizzing and never obeys me. There is also the fact that I can never hide in a crowd. I would kill to have your sleek black hair and be able to hide whenever a teacher is hunting around for the latest prankster."

"Hey, I've been a good girl recently. Have to set an example for the youngsters. Anders, the cad, has provided the  _bad_  example. Honestly, he's on _how_  many escape attempts?" She sighed. "It's pointless. We're always caught and we're always thrown back here. There's no escape from the templars, the bastards." As always, I kept silent as she ranted about the templars. Many of my fellows hated them. I did not, though I was not so deluded as to ignore that they could be dangerous. But, it was a templar who saved my life when my father tried to strangle me for being yet another mage child and, for that reason, I could understand just why they were considered necessary. If only they could all be like Ser Maurevar, who had saved me. It was a shame I would never be able to thank him, though. He died shortly after I had been sent here to Fereldan from Kirkwall. "Are you even listening to me?"

"No," I answered honestly.

She sighed. "Ugh, at least some of the other mages are gone."

"Neria, how can you say that? Are they not going to be in danger?"

" _You_  haven't had to deal with Uldred. He's been more intractable than usual and I  _swear_  he hasn't bathed in weeks. That rank smell…"

All right, it was time for a new subject. …Oh, there was that thing Jowan mentioned. "Hey, Neria?"

"Yeah?"

"Who carried me back?"

She hesitated in answering. "…Cullen."

"…Oh." His name alone was enough to get me to flush.

"…Layla, getting involved with a templar is…"

"I know." No matter what my heart tried to say, I knew what I had to do. "I know. I will not act on it. I just…"

"Of course. You can't help who you fall in love with. Just be careful." She kissed the top of my head as she finished brushing. "Falling in love will give the templars something else to use against you."

It would also give you something to lose. Mages never talked about true romance for that reason. "I know, Neria."

"All right." She suddenly giggled and hugged me. "Let's do away with the sadness! After all, you  _passed_  your Harrowing, and it was the quickest and cleanest ever seen! I'll get some booze from the table later to celebrate!"

"I suppose so. Do I go see Irving now?"

"Yep. You know the way. I'll see you later!"

* * *

In truth, I should have gone straight to Irving, with no stops or distractions. However, I could not really help my feet slowing down as they approached a certain young templar with a beautiful smile. "H-hello," he greeted as I stopped next to him. "I… uh… I'm glad to see you… your Harrowing went smoothly."

"Hey, Cullen," I replied shyly, unable to keep the grin off my face. "I heard you were the one who carried me back. Thank you."

"Yes, they… they picked me as the templar who'd give the killing blow if… it's nothing personal, I swear!"

"…Thank you." I really should not be smiling so much. Most mages would not. However, I was not most mages. "It makes me feel safer, knowing that you were willing to do that for me."

"Um… you're… you're welcome." He smiled back and I knew I was flushing. He was too, though he was doing his best to hide. "I'm… uh… just glad you're all right."

"You are stuttering a lot. Are  _you_  well?"

"W-what? I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should give you an examination? I am a Spirit Healer, after all."

N-no, I'm fine!" He was so red. "I'll… oh, I need to report to training. Um… bye!" He raced off, as fast as he could in the heavy armor.

I took a moment to compose myself as I watched him disappear around the corner. Honestly, of all the people to fall hopelessly in love with, it had to be a templar. Cullen was kind, of course, but such a relationship just could  _not_  happen. Yet, for the life of me, I could not get these feelings to go _away_! Perhaps it was time for me to speak to someone other than Neria about this. Surely some of the older mages had knowledge about things like…

"Absolutely not!" Started, I realized that I had automatically started walking while thinking and I was close to Irving's office. Instead of going in, though, I pressed myself against the wall outside the door as I heard the Knight-Commander rant. It was  _never_  a good idea to be in sight of an angry templar. "Many have already gone to Ostagar. Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages. We've committed enough of our own to the war effort!"

"Your own?" I heard Irving retort dryly. "Since when have you felt such a kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Are you so afraid to let we mages out from Chantry supervision, where we can actually use our Maker-given powers for the benefit of all?"

"How dare you suggest-?!"

"Gentlemen, please." I did not know that voice. It was low, commanding, and polite. "Irving, forgive me, but I believe we have a visitor outside your door."

Oh, how did he know I was here? "Um…" I squeaked, peering inside. "I can come back later, Irving, if need be."

"No, come in, child!" Irving greeted me with enthusiasm, beaming proudly. I knew I was smiling back. Irving had been one of my teachers, and I took great pride in being his star pupil. I worked hard for it. "Welcome, newest daughter to the Circle." I also looked up to Irving as a father. Wynne, my other teacher, had been my mother while here in the Circle. I was always, always so happy to hear the word 'daughter' from them.

"This is…?" I finally had a face to the unknown voice, and he was unlike any I had ever seen. He was… commanding, more so than even the Knight-Commander. He was in some sort of odd armor, certainly not something I had seen in a book. His was darker skinned, with an almost fatherly light in his brown eyes. Who was he?

"Yes, this is she." Irving came and put a hand on my shoulder.

"I see."

"Well, Irving, you're obviously busy," the Knight-Commander grumbled. He did not look happy, so I instinctively tried to hide myself behind Irving. "We'll discuss this later."

"Of course," Irving sighed. As the Knight-Commander stomped of, he merely shook his head. "Where was I? Oh, yes. Layla, this is Duncan, the Commander of the Grey Wardens." I had read about the Wardens. They were an old organization, one that was considered a relic of ancient times.

"It is an honor to meet your acquaintance," I replied, curtseying. "What brings you to the tower?"

"The same thing that has dragged many mages out, dear. War. He's come recruiting more mages."

"With the darkspawn invading, we'll need all the help we can get," Commander Duncan confirmed. "The magic of the Circle is one of the greatest assets we have."

"The darkspawn are an old enemy, yes?" I asked hesitantly. "I read about them."

"Yes, they are twisted monsters that dwell underground. They've formed into a horde in the Wilds to the South and threaten to invade. If they are not stopped, we will likely face another Blight."

"I… I see…"

"Duncan, please, this is to be a happy day for her," Irving gently scolded, smiling. "Save the talks of Blights later, my friend, please. She'll make herself sick from worry again."

"We live in troubled times."

"Is that not more reason to seize moments of levity? Perhaps I should scold you as I do the apprentices, Duncan? Do you still have that dagger you stole?"

"Of course. It saved my life." He stole a dagger? "It also helped serve as proof to oust the conspiracy."

"Yes, but let it also serve as a reminder that someone else seized a moment during a troubled time." Commander Duncan hid a smile behind his hand as Irving turned to address me directly. "The Harrowing is behind you, and your phylactery has been sent. As of this moment, you are an official mage within the Circle. I know I need not remind you of your duties."

"Of course, Irving," I answered, still curious about what they had been talking about. "Thank you."

"In your rooms, there are your new robes and the ring that marks you as a mage. There is also a congratulations gift." He got me a gift? I would have to work extra hard to make them proud, then! "Wear them proudly. You have earned them."

"I will."

"Now, the day is yours. Rest, drink, and be merry. Just… try not to do what Anders did, would you?"

"Of course not!" I still had no idea how Anders got all those barrels of mead anyway, much less how he rigged them to spill all over the templar quarters.

"Very well. Off with you, dear."

"Yes, sir." I smiled, curtseyed to Commander Duncan in farewell, and raced off.

I did it!

* * *

After leaving Irving, I immediately rushed to my new rooms to change into my new robes. Someone, no doubt Wynne, had arranged that my new robes be a beautiful blue, with the elaborate gold hem showing that they were not the robes of an apprentice, but of a tried and proven mage. The ring was, of course, fitted for my hand, gold with the insignia of the Circle engraved on the outside. The necklace, however, caught my attention. It had a simple chain, but the pendant itself was odd. It was a gold-rimmed black circle with a crimson and white star-like shape bursting out of it. It was accompanied by a note:  _'This was a gift from my own teacher and I pass it to you. This amulet was forged during the height of the ancient Imperium's power, designed to help a mage tap into the power of spells. I entrust it to you, as I know you will not abuse your magic. –Irving'_.

I had just put on the amulet when someone knocked on my door. "Layla, it's me," Jowan hissed through the door. "You in there?"

"Yes, Jowan," I answered, getting up from my vanity to open the door. "Is something the matter?"

"Do you mind if we head somewhere else? I don't feel safe talking here."

"Jowan, we're in my room."

"Please?"

"I suppose, then." He was acting weird, and my confusion only increased as he led me to the Chantry Hall situated on the floor here. "Jowan, I have told you. The Maker does not care if you flub a prayer. He is kind and forgiving."

"That's not it." He took my hand and dragged me to one of the alcoves. One of the Chantry Sisters was standing there. I recognized her, though I did not know her name. She was often here when I came in to pray. "Okay, it should be safe here."

I glanced at the Sister, who smiled back, before turning back to Jowan. "Jowan, what is going on?"

"Well, a few months ago, I told you all that I… well, that I'd met a girl."

"Yes, I remember that." Anders had nearly laughed himself silly before giving Jowan all sorts of 'advice'. Neria had chimed in every once in a while. The two were ridiculous sometimes.

"Well, this is Lily."

"…I had thought Chantry Sisters had taken a vow of chastity, as they were symbolically married to the Maker."

"Yes, that is why we were keeping it secret," Lily replied softly. She was still smiling. "We would both be in quite a bit of trouble. But, well…"

You could not choose who you fell in love with. I knew that quite well. "Well, do not fret. No one will find out from me."

"Thank you," Jowan whispered, smiling. "I knew you'd stand by me."

"Of course, Jowan. Are we not friends? Surely you would not have been so worried to tell me."

"No, but it  _is_  related." Was it? "There's something else, though."

"What is it?"

"I… remember how worried I was this morning? About the Harrowing?" I nodded in reply. "Well, I know why now. They're… they're going to make me Tranquil." The world froze for a second. I was completely unable to comprehend it. "They're planning on taking everything from me. My dreams, hopes, fears. My friendships, my love. All gone. I'll just be a husk, like Owain and the others."

"It's okay, love," Lily whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"How… do you know about this?" I squeaked. It was still too hard to process.

"I was delivering documents to Greagoir and saw it on his table. It had authorized the Rite. Irving had signed it."

No. No, I  _refused_  to believe that. "Why would…?"

"I'm under suspicion for being a blood mage," Jowan muttered. Well, that was preposterous. Jowan would never be that stupid. "You know how I've been sneaking around, lately. I'd been seeing Lily, but…"

"Jowan, it will be okay."

"No, they're going to destroy me, and put everyone I care about through the pain of seeing me like that!" He was shaking now. Lily quickly hugged him to help calm him down. "I… I need to escape. I need to destroy my phylactery and run." He looked pleadingly at me. "Please, you have to help me."

My automatic answer was to say 'yes'. After all, Jowan was my brother. But I also knew what he was asking. He was asking me to betray the Circle for him, the Circle which had ultimately  _saved_  my life. Betraying the Circle would also mean betraying Irving. No matter what I chose, I would be disappointing someone I loved very, very much. I could not even stand the thought.

"Jowan, can you give me a few minutes to wrap my head around everything?" I whispered shakily. "My head is a mess, and you… you know what happened the last time I tried…" That incident flickered in my head. Casting a spells and making decisions with clouded thoughts was never a good idea. I knew that first hand.

"I think all of us need to take a breather anyway," Lily laughed as Jowan nodded. "I'll take care of him."

"You have my thanks. I will be back shortly." I could promise nothing more.

* * *

My intention had been to wander to my room or to find Neria and try to calm down. However, Neria was in the middle of teaching a lesson and, when I went to the second floor to go to my new room, my feet automatically took me to the one person I would always, always feel safe around.

"Child, what brings you here?" Irving asked me warmly as I stumbled in. He was alone, working at his desk. "Did you wish to speak with Duncan more?"

"Perhaps later, Irving," I whispered. I could not bring my gaze from the floor.

"I see. I'm glad you met him. He is a most honorable and respected man. But what does bring you here?"

"I…" I started crying. "Irving, there's…"

There was the scrap of a chair and, not two seconds later, I was enveloped in a hug. "Easy. What happened? Did a templar try to attack you?" I shook my head. "Did you see the shadow monster under your bed again?" That startled a laugh out of me. I would have thought he had forgotten that old fear of mine. "Not that, is it? Dear, you may tell me."

"Jowan… he said…"

"Ah, so he is aware that the Rite has been called for him?" So, that  _was_  true? "I suppose the young initiate he dallies with revealed it to him."

"You know about…?"

"One does not become First Enchanter by keeping your eyes and ears closed, Layla. Yes, I knew. I did not see a reason to bring it up, though. There was no harm in it."

"Then… then you know that Jowan and Lily plan to run?" Did I really just say that?

"It does not surprise me, knowing what I  _do_  know." He stepped away and used his sleeve to brush away some of my tears. "My question becomes how do you know."

"They… they asked me for help. They want to destroy the phylactery."

"I never suspected they would have the gall to break into the repository." He sighed. "Reporting it now, however, would accomplish nothing more than what is already planned."

"J-Jowan cannot be a blood mage," I protested. "He is not that stupid."

"Greagoir gave me more evidence than simply sneaking about, child."

"But-!"

"Child, listen for a moment." I kept my mouth shut and worked on calming down. "If the Circle must punish one of their own, I would force the Chantry to do the same. By doing so, I can force them into lessening the punishment on Jowan until a conclusive investigation has occurred."

"Is not the Chantry fair, though?"

"The Chantry would Tranquil us all and call it a mercy." I shuddered at the mere thought. "If they are both caught in the act, however, I can force the Rite to be pushed aside. Greagoir cannot dismiss my suggestion of Jowan's sneaking around was for a rendezvous with there being proof right in front of him. If Jowan is innocent, the worst he will suffer is confinement."

Since he was, he would be fine. "But what of Lily?"

"So long as she does not fight, she will be fine. The Chantry is lenient on their own." He brushed away more of my tears. "It's not a perfect solution, I know, but it is the best that can be done."

"J-Jowan is going to hate me, is he not?"

"He will be angry, but this is a preferable fate to Tranquility or death. If he's innocent, you're saving him in the long run. He'll understand that."

"If you s-say so, Irving."

"I do. I'm sorry this had to happen on your day of triumph, but it will help you in the long run, I believe. Now, here, let me help you clean up. Neria would have my hide if she saw the tears."

That got a chuckle out of me, so I obeyed, washing my face of all traces of tears. I was still depressed, though. I was going to have to betray Jowan to save him. Surely, though, he'd forgive me. …Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never realize how long an Origin is until you write it. Well, here's Layla, my Human Mage. Hopefully, she made a decent impression. For those curious, she's a 17-year-old Spirit Healer with a liking for ice spells. I'm sure you can guess what one of her future specializations will be, though, based on the title I gave her! Neria, by the way, is the default name of the Female!Elf!Mage Warden. I had to show her somehow, no? Ser Maurevar is Ser Maurevar Carver, the templar who helped Malcolm Hawke escape Kirkwall with Leandra, and is mentioned in DA2. Yay, connections. Speaking of connections, the dagger mentioned is in the Stolen Throne. Oh, and the amulet Layla got form Irving is the Amulet of the War Mage, a DLC item.


	3. Chapter 2) Harrowed

**Chapter 2) Origin of the Arcane Warrior, Hero of the Mages – Harrowed**

_Layla POV_

* * *

" _Anders?" I called softly. "Anders, are you awake?"_

" _What? Layla?" I winced at how raspy his voice was. "Layla, what are you doing down here?"_

" _An amplification artifact was brought here for safe-keeping and I helped Irving carry it down. He is checking that there are no cracks, so, I took advantage to look for you." I crept closer to the cells and made myself smile. He looked a wreck as he pushed himself off the small pile of clothes that served as his bed. "I thought you might like to see someone."_

" _Oh, Maker, yes," he sighed, smiling back. "There's been no one but that cat down here. I'm going crazy. Well, crazier."_

" _I warned you about escaping so much." I reached through the bars and held back tears at how quickly he grabbed my hand. He was so desperate for warmth. "You are so lucky there is a law against making Harrowed mages Tranquil."_

_"No mention of Aeonar?"_

_"You are not capable of the stupidity that is required for those sorts of crimes."_

_"Thanks." He chuckled brokenly. "I hate it here. Getting dragged off and thrown in here, in a whole different country at that. The outside world is beautiful, Layla."_

" _That is what you have said before. But I am not certain it is so worth your life, Anders. I do not want to have to attend your funeral."_

" _I know. That's why I don't fight when they find me." He gave me a look. "You'll get in trouble if you stay much longer."_

" _Yes, I will." Even so, I hesitated to leave him. "I will try to come back down here, or see if I can get Neria or Jowan to."_

" _I'll be fine. I just got reminded that there's a cute little sister who will bawl if I'm not. Don't worry."_

" _I will always worry, Anders. You are my family. I will always love and worry over you, just as I would the others."_

"… _Thanks, Layla."_

* * *

After agreeing to Irving's proposed compromise, he did everything he could to help the plan without making it obvious while I went to Jowan and Lily and told them I would help, to their delight and my intense guilt. Due to Lily and Jowan having thought of everything prior, it was not long at all before we were descending into the basement.

"I'm still surprised how quickly you got the rod from Owain," Jowan commented. "I thought for sure it would take longer."

"I suppose having a reputation for not planning elaborate pranks comes in handy," I mumbled. This was so hard. I had to think over every single word I had to say. I wanted desperately to tell him everything, and the thought of lying to him was abhorrent. The four of us had grown up together. We would never, _ever_ lie to each other.

"What's so elaborate about using a rod to light someone's pants on fire?"

"Do not even _think_ about that!"

"Huh? …Oh, right, that… Layla, you know that incident wasn't your fault at all."

"…"

"Sorry, I put my foot in my mouth again. I'll shut up now."

"Are you two all right?" Lily asked, glancing back at us. She was leading the way, though I knew the way just as well.

"We are fine," I reassured, smiling slightly. I knew Jowan did not mean to remind me of that time.

"All right then." We turned a corner and came upon a door. "Here we are. The Victims' Door. It is built of two hundred and seventy-seven planks, one for each original templar."

"Lovely bit of triva, that," Jowan muttered.

"It's supposed to serve as a reminder to the dangers of magic."

"And what people are willing to do to stop it."

"How does it open?" I asked softly. I really just wanted this to all be done and over with.

"Ah, it's only through a templar and mage working together," Lily explained, smiling. "Those of the Chantry hold the password to prime the ward, while the mages use mana to release it."

"Then, let us begin."

"Of course. First, the password." She turned towards the door and reached out to it. "Sword of the Maker, Tears of the Fade."

There was the sound of a ward appearing. "Does it have to be a specific spell?"

"No."

"Then I will do my part." I closed my eyes to focus better. "Spirits of old, I plead that you lend me your strength." Calling on the magic of spirits, I loosed one of the most basic of spells, the Arcane Bolt. The door glowed as the spell hit before swinging open. "I believe that it worked."

"Yes." Lily beamed at me. I had to fight the urge to squirm. To think that there were people who could set others up like this on a regular basis! Such people must be truly sick in their minds! "We're halfway there."

"And the next door is in sight!" Jowan laughed, slinging an arm around my shoulder. Indeed, the second door was only a little down the hall. I knew this area well. There was a storeroom where many magical artifacts were stored. …The cells for solitary confinement were also in this area. "Second door, same as the first, hopefully. Come on!" He tugged me to the door, Lily skipping along behind us. "Okay, let's go with the rod."

I was a little hesitant to use it, since fire magic had been involved with that Incident, but this was important, and it was barely any magic on my part. So I focused my mana, only to realize something I had never experienced before. I could not access the mana. I felt a brief moment of panic, but then realized it was still there. It was merely hidden from me, like how ice hides the water of a lake.

"What's the matter?" Lily asked after a moment of me not melting the lock. "Is something wrong?"

"There's something up here," Jowan muttered. I saw him gesturing carefully, likely trying to turn the mana's flow. "I can't access my magic."

"What is…?"

"…The door is spelled," I answered, walking towards it so that I could better examine the markings carefully hidden in the wood and stone. "Yes, there are glyphs on it." I looked around the room, noting similar symbols on the walls. "Magic cannot be used here. The rod will not work."

"…I should have guessed." She sighed and leaned against the door. "I should've suspected something as soon as I learned it was non-magical keys. I don't know how we're getting in now."

I almost suggested that we turn back, but then I remembered just why I was doing this. If I did not help here, then Jowan would be made Tranquil without proper trial. I had to keep this going. "…Jowan, the cells are over that way," I whispered, pointing to the side hallway. "We might be able to find something in that direction."

"Are you sure? I mean; what are the chances?"

"The Tower was built quite some time ago, Jowan. According to the history books, many older buildings have multiple ways in and out of practical every important room in case of an attack."

"Point. Besides, I'll take any chance I'll get."

"Yes, now is not the time to give up," Lily agreed with a smile. "We can do this. I know we can."

"Then let us…" I trailed off as I heard something. Who would be down here besides…? Oh, of course. It was quite silly of me to forget why I had always needed Irving's permission to come down here. "No, hold a moment. I had forgotten the guards here."

"Guards?"

"Yes, the animated statues and magical constructs that ensure that no apprentices or enchanter go to the solitary confinement cells and the repository without the explicit permission of a Senior Enchanter. Did you not know of it?"

"Layla, some days I wonder what goes through that head of yours," Jowan muttered as two of the statues stepped out from their resting places and a mage construct appeared from its glyph on the ground, taking the form of a mage to support the two warrior statues. "I don't suppose you have any residual permission."

"Do not be ridiculous, Jowan."

"You're the one who knew about the defenses and didn't mention them, yet I'm the ridiculous one?"

"What is it with mages and just talking?" Lily sighed with exasperation as the sentinels approached. The construct-mage kept its distance, just as any real mage would. "If they get in our way, then we must move past them." To my surprise, she marched right up to one of the sentinels and expertly disarmed it before using its own mace to bash its helmet in. "Well, should I fight them myself?"

"No, I believe I can disrupt the construct in back," I replied. "That would be much simpler. If you would like, you and Jowan can take care of these two?"

"Certainly. Jowan, dear?"

"R-right!" Jowan squeaked, going to work with spells as I ducked back to better focus on the construct-mage. Distance was little problem with magic, so long as the mage had proper control. A construct-mage had none, but Irving had specifically trained me for long-distance spells, to help counter my… reluctance to use the bigger spells. It was merely an exercise in focus and patience.

Luckily, I had a good bit of both! "Storms that crackle on the edge of the calm, bend to my will," I whispered, carefully urging my magic to wrap around the construct-mage. "Bend to my will and smite my foe." Lightning sparked into existence and followed the web my mana wove around the construct-mage, electrocuting it again and again. It took a few seconds, but eventually the construct was overloaded and dispersed.

Around the same time, Lily and Jowan had finished dealing with the sentinels. I was impressed by the number of dents in the armors. "Okay, I'm going to go check on the door up ahead," Jowan declared as he shook his hands out. Jowan specialized in fire magic, and that magic always had a tendency to make the joints uncomfortably warm. "Be right back!"

"Wait, Jowan!" I called, trying to get him to stop. He didn't, so I just sighed and turned to Lily, who was carefully setting the mace down next to the sentinel she stole it from. "Lily, may I ask where you learned how to wield a mace?"

She giggled. "Well, I wasn't _always_ a Chantry girl. Still, I shall be happy when we leave this place. It is a far from the Maker as one can get."

"Yes, I agree," I murmured, shuddering. "Perhaps the two of us should pray for protection?"

"Hmm, yes, I think we should." She glanced around before taking my hand and tugging me into an alcove. "Here, this should be good. Should I yell for Jowan?"

"I think we should let him have fun attempting to break down the locked door, since he ran off before listening to me."

She giggled at that before clasping her hands in prayer. I did the same and closed my eyes. "Maker, our enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against us. But our faith sustains us; we shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against us. We shall embrace the light. We shall weather the storm. We shall endure. Blessed be Your name, and may You see us through this trial. So mote it be."

"So mote it be." I opened my eyes and smiled at Lily, who smiled back. "Let us see if Jowan has started that funny muttering yet?"

"Oh, yes." She giggled again. "That's how we met, you know?"

"Truly? I must hear this!"

* * *

"Why do girls always gossip?" Jowan complained as we entered the repository at last. I knew this room well. Irving would send me here many times to check on an artifact hidden here. It would drive the Knight-Commander absolutely insane; he had little trust in apprentices.

"Perhaps it is simply something the Maker wished when we were born?" I giggled. Lily and I had been trading stories of Jowan's hilarious antics, much to his embarrassment. "Boys are fascinated by icky things like toads, while girls are compelled to gossip themselves silly."

"Whatever. Let's go hunt around? Or are you two going to pray again?"

"We did not encounter any more strange creatures as we headed here, now did we?"

"Okay, you've a point there, but… oh, never mind, let's just go hunting."

Giggling at how I had won the argument, I carefully wandered the repository. It would not do to accidentally cause one of the artifacts to go off. Not only would we get hurt, but we could also break the thing! Irving would be so upset, and I dared not think of how the Knight-Commander would react. He was _always_ cross over something. Still, though, there were no signs of a door here other than the one we entered from. I should go and check in with Jowan and Lily.

When I found them, though, I found them by a statue hidden in an out of a way corner. "Why are you two lingering here?" I asked as I approached. The statue was quite a strange one. It appeared to be a bald woman in an odd garment, wielding a spear. Why would this be down here?

"There's something off about this statue," Jowan explained as Lily hid further behind Jowan. She was quite nervy around the artifacts. Was she afraid of magic? …No, that would be ridiculous. After all, she loved a mage.

"Do you mean besides the fact that it is here in the place where the Circle stores all their magical artifacts?"

"Yes, besides that."

"P-perhaps we can continue looking for a way through?" Lily suggested hesitantly. "We don't have much-"

"Greetings," a voice whispered, interrupting Lily. It was soft, echoing in my head, and most definitely a woman's. Who was speaking?

"Maker's breath!" Jowan breathed as Lily yelped. I kept silent, more curious than afraid. "What's going on?"

"I am the essence and spirit of Eleni Zenovia, once consort and advisor to Archon Valerius." So, we were hearing a ghost speak? Was not magic wonderful sometimes? "Prophecy was my crime, cursed to stone when I foretold the fall of my lord's house." …The statue was talking in our heads. I believe this was one of the stranger things I had encountered as a mage. I was not sure if it beat learning of Finn's full name. That was truly a strange mess of syllables, particularly his insistence of 'esquire' at the end.

"Archons were the lords of the Imperium, yes?" I asked.

"Yeah," Jowan confirmed. "I don't know that name, though."

"Forever shall you stand on the threshold of my fortress, he told me," Eleni continued explaining. She sounded resigned to it all. "You may tell your lies to those who pass through. However, my lord found death and his proud fortress crumbled into dust around me."

"How do we know this isn't a trick?" Lily demanded. She was gripping Jowan's arm tightly. "Whatever she is, she's of the Imperium, which cursed us all. I wouldn't listen to her."

"Lily, I think it's a victim," Jowan murmured. "I feel a little sorry."

"How did she even arrive here?" I mused. "It must have been quite some time ago." Ignoring Lily's protests, I reached out to brush off the dust that stubbornly clung to Eleni's stone shoulders. "This is almost as bad as the underside of Anders's bed."

"Oh, Maker, don't remind me of that."

"I wonder if there is a way to break it."

"Weep not for me, nor go through such troubles," Eleni gently refused before Lily could snap at me. "Stone, I became and stone, I am. I am eternal and unfeeling, just as all other rocks are. I shall endure until the Maker returns to light all fires again."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's ambiguous rubbish," Jowan sighed. "Typical. Look, I can do it too. 'The sun grows dark but lo! Here comes the dawn!'"

"Might we leave it alone?" Lily asked shakily. "Come on!" Jowan nodded and quickly followed his girlfriend to a different section of the room.

I made to follow, but Eleni's voice rang out one more time. "Young one." I turned back to face the statue. "Do not keep the Eagle's Power hidden. It will be needed."

"What are you talking about?" There was, of course, no answer. "I… see then. I will try."

"Why are you still talking to it?" Lily had returned to take my hand. "Come on," she insisted, tugging me away. "Jowan has that 'thinking face' on."

"I thought I smelled smoke," I joked. She giggled as she continued tugging me to where Jowan was studying the bookcase. "Jowan, what is it?"

"Just noticing how weak this old wall is," Jowan replied. Oh, so he was studying the wall _behind_ the bookcase. That was an error on my part. "I wonder if we can take advantage of that?"

"What do you mean?" Lily asked.

"Well, I'm no expert, but if we think of how we've been running about, then I think the chamber would be on the other side of this wall, behind this bookcase." Jowan was always quite good at orientation, by far the best of us four. "I'm going to move the bookcase. Maybe you two can find a way to knock a brick or two loose."

"You mean besides the amplification artifact over here?" I asked softly, pointing to a dog statue I recognized. "If we combine it with the power of the rod of fire, it should do something."

"Let's get it into position!" Lily pressed eagerly. "Oh, but how did you know what it was?"

"I helped Irving carry it down when it arrived. Help me push it into place?"

"Of course!"

Jowan had just managed to get the bookcase out of the way when Lily and I got the artifact at a safe distance from the crumbling wall. Truly, we might not have even needed the artifact, but it would not hurt. At least, I hoped it would not. "Okay, let's try it!" Jowan insisted as he ducked behind the artifact. "Hurry! The clock is ticking!"

It certainly was. As much faith I had in Irving, I knew he could not keep the Knight-Commander at bay for long. So, this time, I did not hesitate, but made myself use the rod of fire on the amplification statue. It immediately took the spell and blasted out a stream of fire far more powerful than I could hope for. It took naught but a second for the wall to crumble, leaving a hole just large enough for us to crawl through.

"It worked!" Jowan cheered as the last of the rubble hit the ground. "Layla, you're amazing!"

"We must find the phylactery quickly," Lily reminded. Still, she beamed at me in her own show of thanks.

"Shouldn't be hard. There aren't that many apprentices at the moment."

"Then let us move," I insisted. I tucked the rod of fire back into my robes, and told myself to not shake. "Come on!"

Quickly, we raced inside the room, magically spelled to be cold, so that the blood in the phylacteries was kept as pristine as possible. We jumped up the stairs leading to where they kept them and frantically hunted through the shelves. Still, it seemed as if we had just started searching when Jowan triumphantly cried out, "I found it!" I whirled to see him studying the small vial made when he was a child. "It's amazing how something so small stands between every mage and freedom. So small and fragile." He dropped it to the floor, where it shattered instantly. The blood spread out eerily on the floor, as if hunting for something to hide in. "That's it. I'm free."

"Yes, we both are," Lily agreed, kissing his cheek with a smile. "Come! I would not stay here a moment longer!"

I lingered a bit as they raced for the door. In truth, I should have intervened there. However, I did nothing as he picked up his phylactery and dropped it to the ground. This was my own compromise. If they escaped anyway, they would be free.

Still, though, how had Jowan known so quickly which phylactery was his? Then again, the Circle was meticulous about labeling. Perhaps he had just been lucky.

* * *

When we left, there was no sign of Irving or Knight Commander Greagoir. In fact, there was no sign of templars at all. Had we gotten through faster than they had expected? If that was the case, then perhaps Jowan and Lily could escape before anything happened? If they attempted, what would I have to do?

"We did it," Jowan cheered, smiling at me. "Thank you, Layla. Seriously. Without you, that would've never-"

"Jowan, quiet," Lily suddenly hissed. She was more nervous now than she had been in the repository. "If we're not careful, templars will come and…"

"So, what you said was true, Irving." There they were. They were here now. They must have been hiding right outside the doors, considering how quickly they had appeared. The Knight Commander looked particularly annoyed as he spoke. "An initiate conspiring with a blood mage."

"A First Enchanter's job is to know everything that goes on in his Circle," Irving replied, coming up to stand next to Jowan and me. "But, Greagoir, I've told you that there was an alternative explanation to your suspicions of his sneaking around."

"Yes, yes." The Knight Commander sighed as he studied Lily. "Shocked, but in control of her mind. Not a thrall. Strange, I was certain she was. Why else would she take such stupid risks?"

"I could wax poetic, but I think Wynne might find a way to hurt me."

"Bah." Knight Commander Greagoir looked almost disgusted. "An initiate betrayal and a newly dubbed mage already flouting the rules of the Circle."

"Whatever do you mean, Greagoir?" Irving's voice took on a light, whimsical tone. I knew he was about to spin a lie. "I asked Layla to check on an artifact for me. There is no rule stating she could not, say, invite her friend down to give him some alone time with his girlfriend. Layla has covered for Anders and Neria before." I… well, yes, I have, but I was not sure that was something that needed to be said here, though!

"Oh, enough," the Knight Commander sighed. "Very well, Irving. I shall imprison Jowan as you asked for a more complete investigation. It will come to the same conclusion." No, it would not. Jowan was not so stupid. "But for the initiate who has scorned the Chantry and her vows? We will take her to Aeonar." …Pardon?

"Isn't that too harsh, Greagoir?" Irving asked, obviously started. "This is barely a crime!"

"There have been too many. She shall serve as an example."

"P-please…" Lily whimpered, gripping my arm as the two leaders argued. Jowan remained nearby, frozen at the news. I did not blame him. Aeonar was the mages' prison, far worse than any Circle. "Please, help me. I'll go anywhere but there. Please…"

"Wait a moment," I whispered back, hugging her. "Hide behind me. Irving will calm him down. You shall see." To be sent there was to die. There was no way to escape that place unscathed.

"Enough, Irving!" The Knight-Commander yelled. "She's not under your protection; she's under mine!" He gestured at the templars standing guard nearby. How many were there? I counted ten, not counting the Knight-Commander. "Go! Take her!" The templars advanced and I shifted so that Lily was firmly hidden behind me. "Knock her aside if she gets in the way!"

"No, I won't let you touch them!" Jowan suddenly snapped, producing a knife from robe and stabbing himself in the hand. I almost shrieked, but then found my voice stolen by the sight of the crimson whirlwind of power that surrounded him. He… he was using blood magic. He was using _blood magic_. He had lied. He had _lied_ to me! Jowan… Jowan, _why_?

Despite the whirlwind of thoughts, I could not scream as he attacked the templars. I could not cry as he attacked Irving. I could not do anything as he proved to everyone in the room just why mages were so feared, and why the world was _justified_ in thinking that.

"By… by the Maker…" Lily whispered when the whirlwind finally died. She was shaking in my arms as she stared at Jowan. "Blood magic? How… how could you? You said you never…"

"I… I dabbled. I thought it would make me better," Jowan mumbled. I could only stare in shock. Blood splattered his robes, hands, even his face. Blood coated the floor and stained the rugs. The templars and Irving were groaning as their blood stained their own clothes, as they attempted to stand up and stop him. Jowan… Jowan, why…? _Why_?!

"Blood magic is evil. It corrupts people, changes them."

"I'm going to give it up! I'm giving up all magic! I just want to be with you! Lily, please…!" He held out his wounded hand, still dripping blood. "Please, come with me!"

There was a moment where everything seemed to stand still. There was no sound, no breath. Even time froze for this moment. But then Lily turned away, hiding her face in my shoulder. "I trusted you. I was ready to sacrifice everything for you. But now… now I don't know who you are." She began to sob. "Stay away from me, blood mage." Jowan stared, as if not sure he had heard right.

So, I glared at him and hid Lily further from his sight as she broke down in my arms. "Run, Jowan," I hissed, forcing malice when all I wanted to do was break down into sobs just as Lily was. "Run far away and never return. If I see you again, I will kill you." Looking as if I had slapped him, he raced off, tripping as he disappeared into the corridor. I should have just attacked him right then, truth be told, but he was still _Jowan_ and I still loved him as my brother, even though he had just used me, had just betrayed me. Why… why was I so… so _stupid_?

"Are you two all right?" Irving asked, making his way towards us. Blood shone eerily on the stone floors. "Did you see what happened to Greagoir?" I shook my head and told myself that the shaking I felt was from Lily, not from me. There were templars about and a mage did not show fear around a templar, especially not in these circumstances. "I see. Well, just give it two seconds and I'm sure-"

"I knew it," the Knight Commander growled, stomping over to Irving. The healer in me automatically took in both of their wounds. They were shallow, surface wounds more than anything. I thank You, Maker, for Your mercy. "Blood magic. To overcome so many, though…" He gestured at me. "I would've thought _her_ capable, sure, but him?" He suddenly glared at me. "You. You're one of his friends. Did you never even suspect?!"

"No," I whispered. My voice was shaking. "No, I… I would've never thought him that stupid."

"None of us expected this," Irving defended. "Are you all right, Greagoir?"

"As good as can be expected, given the circumstances! If you'd let me act sooner-!"

"If you had investigated when I asked, I wouldn't have stopped you."

"Well, now we've a blood mage loose! We have to get his phylactery!"

"That… that will not work," I squeaked. I did my best to not shake. Lily was still crying in my shoulder. "His phylactery was destroyed."

"And how did _that_ happen?!" I flinched as he roared in my face. "What did you do?!"

"I did not stop him in time." What was I suppose to say? "J-Jowan was never good at running, though. He could not have gotten far."

"And we shall use every resource we have to catch him." He was back to calm. This was not good. This was not good at all. I tried to hide Lily further as he focused his too-calm anger on her. "And you, initiate! You helped a blood mage! Look at all he's hurt!"

"Wait, please!" I protested. "We were both horribly tricked!"

"No, save your breath," she told me. "I can speak for myself." She pulled away from me, using her sleeves to dry her tears. "Knight-Commander, I… I was wrong. I was a willing accomplice to… to a blood mage." She shook, even as she tried to stay dignified. "I will accept whatever punishment is given to me."

"Get her out of my sight," the Knight Commander growled to his fellow templars.

Before they grabbed her, though, she pressed something into my hand. It was a bracelet made of simple silver chaining blue gems together. "My mother gave this to me to remind me that I was loved," she whispered. "I give it to you, in hopes that you remember the mistakes I made because of love, and do not repeat it."

"Goodbye, Lily," I whispered back, gripping the bracelet tightly as a templar roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her away. This… this was just so _wrong_.

"Why did you send her into that repository, Irving?" the Knight-Commander sighed as they disappeared into the hall. I let them talk over my head, struggling to put on the bracelet. It had a difficult clasp. Lily must have been quite dextrous.

"Why not?" Irving countered, absently reaching over to help me. I tried to smile in thanks, but was far too tired. "I've sent her before. She is my star pupil, after all."

"Of course, how could I forget? You only brag about her to everyone you meet, even Teyrn Loghain." Pardon me? "That phylactery chamber is forbidden to all save you and me! You're not all knowing, Irving. Who knows how far his influence was? How are we to deal with this?"

"Knight-Commander, if I may?" Commander Duncan walked up then, looking strangely at home amidst the blood. "There was a second reason for my coming to the Tower," he continued when the Knight-Commander nodded, clearly aggravated by the interruption. "I was looking for mages to join the Grey Wardens." He set a hand on my shoulder. "I've heard nothing but praise for Miss Layla's abilities. I would like to recruit her." Pardon me?

The Knight-Commander stared a moment in shock before rounding on Irving. "You promised him a recruit?" he accused.

"I promised nothing," Irving deflected neatly. "I merely bragged about Layla to someone I met, as I always do. You just mentioned that habit, actually."

"I object to this! She's just been brought into the Circle, powerful or no! Plus this whole business is suspect!"

"I don't think that matters, Greagoir. Have you forgotten? Duncan need only invoke the Right of Conscription, and you're forced to it." The Knight-Commander was silent. "Greagoir, please. If you will not trust her or him, then trust me, as you always have."

"The mages are needed," Commander Duncan pressed as the Knight-Commander remained silent. "This mage is needed. Worse things are plaguing this land than blood mages, you know that."

"Pardon me, but may I speak?" I finally squeaked. All three men turned their attention to me. "I am afraid I am horribly lost at what is going on."

"Ah, I'm sorry, my dear," Irving laughed softly. "Duncan wishes to take you from the Circle, as a recruit for the Wardens."

"So, I am to leave the Circle?" But I… I was not sure I _wanted_ to leave. The Circle had my family. I had no ties, really, to the outside world.

"The Circle never forgets its apprentices, wherever they may fly. You will always be a reflection of our teachings. But the Wardens shall be your new family."

"I… I love my family here, sir."

He smiled at that. "And we shall always _be_ your family, Layla. Just because you have a new one does not mean you have to forget your old one."

"I… if that is what the Maker wills?"

"It seems so."

"Th-Then, I will accept."

"Then go and gather your things," Commander Duncan ordered. The Knight-Commander looked livid. "Make your farewells. I would leave soon, to avoid getting caught up in this madness."

"Yes, sir," I whispered, curtseying before racing for the stairs to my… my old-new room.

To my surprise, though, Neria was already there, packing a bag for me. "Oh, hey there," she greeted, smiling sadly.

"What are you doing here?" I had to ask.

"…It's already spread around the Tower. Jowan's flight was rather… conspicuous. There are also templars not happy that you're being sent with…"

"Yes, I…"

"I figured you'd be panicking over what to pack, so I came here to help!" She turned back to the bag. "There are some robes and undergarments, a few little trinkets like the things Anders would bring back for us, and the… the pictures…" Some of the mages here had artistic talents and would frequently draw whatever they saw. Quite a few of them had been inspired by us four with our strong _friendship_. Jowan… Jowan, why would you…? "I asked a couple of the enchanters, and they actually suggested you not carry a staff. I think they were thinking you should learn knife work or something." Who would teach me something like that though?

"I shall take that advice." Besides, the staves wielded by most of my fellow mages were so noticeable and cumbersome. I would be glad to not carry one.

"Hey, Layla?"

"Yes?"

She hugged me tightly. I had not even seen her move. "Never forget that you have family here," she whispered in my ear. "I know we aren't of the same blood or even race, but you and I are sisters. Now and forever."

"I will miss you, Neria," I whispered back. "Do not forget me."

"Never." She pulled away and helped me shoulder the pack. "Well, off you go. There's no way the templars will let me close to the doors, but I'll head up to a balcony floor to wave you off."

"Okay." We both smiled at each other and then parted ways. She raced for the stairs and I walked to entrance of the Tower. I thought about going to find Cullen and wishing him farewell, but decided against it. It would look too odd. Even worse, though, was the fact that he might get into trouble for it. No, it would be better to not go find him. If he happened to be near, I could silently tell him goodbye, but I could not go looking for him. I did get a bit of luck, though, when I arrived. Cullen was one of the templars waiting to help open the door, along with a few others I vaguely recognized. Irving and Commander Duncan waited at the doors themselves, listening to the Knight-Commander rant.

Ignoring all forms of dignity, though, Irving rushed forward and gave me a huge hug. "You'll be fine," he reassured. "I know you well. You'll do us all very, very proud."

"I will try," I promised. "I am sad to leave, Irving."

"Then you merely have to come back and visit. The Tower is always open to you, dear." He kissed the top of my head. "Go and fly, Layla. All will be well."

"Until we meet again then, Irving." I smiled as bright as I could at him before turning that smile to each of the templars here to open the doors. I lingered my gaze on Cullen, who was the only one to smile back, before focusing on Commander Duncan. "I am ready."

"Then let's be off," Commander Duncan replied. The Knight-Commander looked quite sour. "Open the gates for us, please."

The templars rushed to obey, keeping silent all the while. I was startled when the Knight-Commander touched my shoulder as the doors finally opened and sunlight streamed inside. "Well, good luck out there, girl," he muttered. "You'll need it."

Uncertain how to take that, I defaulted to my normal politeness. "Thank you, Knight-Commander. I am sorry about Jowan. If… if I see him, I will report it immediately."

"Good. I expect nothing less." He saluted me, a mage. He even smiled slightly. I had not once seen him smile at anyone before. "Farewell, Miss Amell."

"Farewell, Knight-Commander." I curtseyed back and took my first step outside of the Tower for many years. It was weird. Anders had always spoken highly of the outside, but I did not see what was so special. If anything, I felt afraid at all the things I could see. This was the outside world. The last time I had been here, my father had tried to kill me for being different. What… what was I supposed to…?

"Layla!" At my name, I looked up and saw the balconies of the Tower filled with mages and apprentices, those who had not gone to the King's Army in Ostagar. I recognized some of them on sight, mostly those who had forced their way to the front. There was Leorah, a recent Senior Enchanter, waving next to Sweeney, an elder Senior Enchanter whose sight was slowly deteriorating. Close to them was Niall debating with Senior Enchanter Torrin, though both stopped their debates to grin at me. Cera, who taught runecrafting and enchanting, was cheering next to Keili, who was praying as she always did. Godwin looked nervous in the crowd, but he smiled and waved from his hiding place next to the cheering Petra and Kinnon. In another part of the crowd, Finn and Eadric were discussing books, but both spared a moment long enough to shout encouragement my way. Of course there, front and center, was Neria, cheering the loudest even as she cried.

I found myself crying to as I saw them all wishing me well and waved back before turning to where Commander Duncan was waiting at the dock. A fisherman was already there, ready to take the two of us away from the Tower. But with everyone cheering, I no longer felt afraid. I felt ready.

"Do you know how to get into a boat safely?" Commander Duncan asked me as I stepped up beside him. I shook my head, afraid to talk. "Here, then. Give me your hand and I'll help you." He did so and we quickly pushed off, sailing across the lake. As we sailed, I found myself unable to believe everything that happened in this one, single day.

I suppose I was _truly_ a Harrowed Mage now. I had gone through quite a few harrowing events, at the least. Surely, nothing I would experience would ever be worse.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title refers to the Achievement for completing the Mage Origin. Like I've done in other fics, I'm prefacing each non-intro chapter with a memory for the POV char, typically related to something inside the chapter itself, just for more background for the chars. This memory is Layla visiting Anders while he was in solitary confinement. There are cells located in the basement area in the Tower, so I've chosen to believe this is where he was kept. But wow, this all happened in one day. Longest day ever.  
> No, I did not produce all those names from random. Those are the names of every named mage that we know was not in the Tower at this time. …What? I decided that there should be a bit of a triumphant send-off. Oh, for those wondering about the whole "power of eagle" thing, that's literally what Amell supposedly means. I'm a bit of a sucker for incorporating name meanings. Lily's prayer is piecing together some known bits of the Chant.  
> Next Chapter – Dalish Origin with our second POV char.


	4. Chapter 3) Origin of Cleon Mahariel

**Chapter 3) Origin of the Shadow Assassin, Hero of the Dales – Eluvian**

_Cleon Maharial POV_

* * *

" _Never again will we submit." That is the creed of my people. We hunt and keep the lost lore, staying apart from the rest of 'society'. That is because we opted for the lonely path. Welcomed nowhere, we simply wander the lands, desperately searching for what has been lost for thousands of years. It is a hard struggle, but we are proud of it. We hope for the day we have a homeland again, a day when our Creators can find their way back to us. At least, that is the opinion of my people._

_I'm not so certain I want the mythical homeland, though. I've always known this life, and it's the only one I've ever wanted. I'm content here in the forest, and I'm content with wandering. But I also want my people to thrive again, to soar, so I suppose I must keep my own wandering spirit in check._

_My greatest dream is to somehow open the gate to my people's paradise and guide their weary souls there. Of course, a simple hunter probably can't do anything like that, but it never hurts to dream. For now, though, I take my duties as hunter and eldest child of a former Keeper seriously. One day, what was stolen from we elvhen will be found and replaced. I know it. I'll do it with my own two hands if need be._

* * *

This was one of the moments where I truly felt alive. Racing through the trees, relying on my instincts to keep from tripping as I kept my eyes on the prize. Tracking the prey as it stumbled through the underbrush, through the brambles. Hunting was truly an amazing thing, a wonderful combination of athletics and strategy.

And when the prey happened to be some stupid shem'len getting far too close to the camp? Well, I certainly didn't mind.

"And just where do you think you're going, shem'len?" I asked with false politeness as I leapt from the shadows and appeared in front of the group. Three of them, fat and lazy. Stupid of them to venture so far from home.

"You… you're a Dalish!" one of them yelped, showing the same intelligence as a three year old.

"And you three are somewhere you shouldn't be," Tamlen noted calmly as he stepped out from the trees with an arrow aimed at them. The three were now trapped between us. Perfect.

"Let us pass, knife-ear," another said, showing as much _sense_ as a three year old. "You have no right to keep us."

"No?" Tamlen smirked and nodded at me. "We'll see about that, won't we, falon?"

"Oh, no doubt," I agreed. The three shem'len were skittish. "So, what do we have? Bandits? More pathetic souls wandering about?"

"Can't believe they ever drove us out of our homes, huh?"

"We never did nothing to you!" one squeaked. "We… we didn't even know the forest was yours!"

"The forest belongs to no one, idiot," I snapped. "But you shem'len are like vermin, really. There's enough mischief nowadays without the rodents getting into it."

"So, like all vermin, they need to be dealt with," Tamlen agreed. I could tell he really wanted to loose that arrow. "So…"

"W-wait, we didn't mean to make trouble!" I was losing track of which shem'len was talking already. They were all alike. Only the faces and colors changed. "There were just these caves, with ruins like we'd never seen. So… uh… well, we thought…"

"Treasure. Of course." Both Tamlen and I rolled our eyes. Thieves, just like all the other shem'len. But this lot? Well, they were adding 'liars' on top of it. "There aren't any ruins in these parts, though, so I'm curious what you're going on about."

"No, we're not lying!" One of the shem'len stumbled to me, tossing a small carving my way. "We… we found these outside!"

I frowned as I studied the piece. I recognized some of this from Merrill's studies. "The carvings are elvish," I told Tamlen. "Written elvish, I think."

"And… and there's more in the ruins!"

"You didn't go deeper? Surprising."

"Well, we… we heard something, so we ran. And then kept running." Ah, must've been when we caught them, _if_ they were telling the truth. Which I doubted.

"And… ah… where _is_ this ruin?" Tamlen asked, obviously bored and having written them off as liars.

"To the west. There's a cave in the rock face. You'll find it there."

"Hmm… interesting." Tamlen focused on me. "Well, what shall we do with them, falon?"

Honestly, I was tempted to kill them, but there was something wrong with killing something so obviously scared. Besides, there was a _very_ important reason to not be moving on so soon. So… "Go," I ordered them coolly, stepping out of the way. I kept my daggers out, by my side. "Tell your people to stay away, shem'len, and we'll let you go with your lives."

"Oh… oh, thank you!" All three of them spouted the same words of false gratitude as they raced away. They tripped about ten times each. Pathetic.

"Why let them go, falon?" Tamlen growled once they left sight. I could tell that he'd really wanted to fire at least a warning shot.

"Something about my twin sister being nearly six months pregnant," I retorted easily. "I don't suppose you know anything about that, eh?"

"…Yeah, Lyna would skin me alive if I made her run about just because I couldn't keep from purging the world of a few shem'len, husband or not." He sighed, but grinned. "Six months… it won't be long before our da'len is running about."

"Creators help us all!"

"Yeah, laugh it up. Just wait until you and Merrill get it going." I flushed at the implication, but that was mostly because… "Wait, why are you… no way, when did you two find the _time_? I mean; you're always running around and Merrill's busy with Keeper stuff!"

"That's not your business, falon." How was this nosy busybody my best friend? "So, what should we do about those supposed ruins?"

"Sure, change the subject." Tamlen, I was going to punch the grin off your face. "Well, I guess we go verify. If they were talking lies, can we go after them again?"

"Of course not."

"Fine, fine. Seriously, live a little, falon. You're too serious. Although, I guess _Merrill_ doesn't mind."

For the record, it was not my fault he somehow tripped and landed face first into the mud. …Okay, not the landing face-first into the mud part. I did trip him.

* * *

Well, wonder of wonders. Shem'len who weren't lying. Still, I didn't much like the look of these ruins. Something was off about them.

"Well, this must be the cave," Tamlen commented, pointing out the obvious. "Were these here before?"

"Not to my knowledge," I replied. Yes, my instincts were to run screaming. Something was definitely off. "Let's go back and tell Keeper Marethari."

"Always the careful one." He chuckled. "However, I don't intend on going back until we find something definitely worth making a fuss over."

"Tamlen, we found ruins and a carving. I think that's enough."

"I just want to look around. How dangerous could it be?"

"Now I _know_ Fen'harel has a trap in here for stupid elves like you."

He flashed me a grin. "Come on!" He jumped inside, not even bothering to check for traps.

"Oh, sure, let's ignore the elf with just enough magic to have sharper instincts than normal," I grumbled as I followed him inside the strange looking ruins. These structures... they were not elvish. "That's always smart. How did you not die as a da'len, Tamlen?"

"You looked after me," he replied cheekily. Of course he'd heard me, even though he was far ahead. Tamlen had some of the best hearing in the Clan. Shame he didn't have _sense_ to go with it.

"One of these days, I'm not going to be able to pull you out of trouble. And I mean _real_ trouble, not prank trouble."

"Yeah, but not today!" He went through a door and yelped as an arrow flew out of the wall and clipped his arm. "What the-?!"

"You were saying?" I hid my unease in my driest tone. "Since you're already there, hit the switch."

"Where?"

"Above your head. Falon, look before you leap for once, please."

"Oh, okay." He pulled the lever and there was an audible click. "I hope that means it's off."

"Same. Come on; I'll bandage your arm as we explore."

"So we _are_ exploring."

"You won't shut up otherwise. Let's get moving."

"All right!"

Not that there was much in these ruins. Broken doors. Crumbling walls. Twisted trees. It honestly looked like any other ruin, aside from the... strange choice in architecture. Completely gutted and cleaned out. There really was no reason for my instincts to be screaming at me to run away. But they kept on screaming. They kept screaming even as Tamlen and I ran into a simple statue. Well, actually, it wasn't all that simple at all. Mostly because it confirmed just how _weird_ this place was. "Why is there a statue of one of the Creators here?" I asked as I studied it. "The place shows signs of shem'len architecture, but the carvings and the statues… these are _ours_."

"Do you think these ruins might date back to Arlathan?" Tamlen asked breathlessly. It was certainly a startling conclusion, but the only one that would make any sort of sense, unless there were kindly shem'len after the fall. Which I _highly_ doubted. "This place is amazing!"

...He just used that word. He really just... "Okay, that's it. Real reason for wanting to explore, _now_."

"What?" He stared at me for a moment. "Where did that come from?"

"Tamlen, you only use the word 'amazing' when you're getting out of trouble. It's been that way since we were da'len. Now talk."

"…Well, won't lie. I was sorta hoping this might get Keeper Marethari to, you know, forgive me for _that_."

Well, couldn't really fault him. She'd been absolutely livid at him over the incident. "Seriously, you get into too much trouble."

"And you, too little. You're too focused, falon. Live a little."

"Father was the Keeper before Marethari and Mother was a skilled hunter. I have expectations to live up to."

"Liar. You just want Hahren Paivel to praise you once." …I couldn't deny that. Hahren Paivel was literally the _only_ person in the Clan to never praise me, no matter how hard I pushed myself. He'd been a good friend of my father's, and had befriended my mother before she left. Of all those in the Clan, I wanted to hear a simple 'good work' from him. Just once. "Anyway, there's a door here. Let's go through it!" Wait, what?

"If you trigger another trap…" I sighed as he ran into the room and ignored him to study the statue again. I thought I recognized it as Falon'Din, the Creator who protected the dead and gave out fortune. He was a kind god, who discovered his abilities while helping an old doe find rest in the Beyond. A place this… this wrong should not be his, but perhaps this was a place where many people died, so the statue was erected in hopes they did not become lost. Perhaps this place was truly setheneran, and that was why it felt wrong to me.

Wait, if this place was truly setheneran, then that meant the Veil was thin and spirits could slip through and my idiot of a brother-by-marriage just wandered into a room alone and was being quiet.

"Tamlen?" I called, stepping into the room he went through earlier. I found him standing at the foot of something. A mirror? Yes, a mirror guarded by two warrior statues, all far larger than anything. What sort of person would use this? A giant? Tamlen looked so… small in front of it. "Tamlen."

"Hmm? Oh!" He turned to face me with a grin. "Hey there," he greeted. "Sorry, got distracted. Isn't this beautiful? And look at the writing! I wonder what it says."

"Well, that's for Keeper Marethari to decipher. Let's get back."

"And look at it! All shining and clean! There's not a smudge or crack on it!" …Did he just ignore me for a _mirror_? Tamlen's vanity strikes again. "Hey, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"I think something moved inside the mirror."

"Inside the mirror. Right. Tamlen, let's get going. I think the air is addling you worse than usual." He didn't answer me. "Tamlen?" When he still didn't reply, I sighed and walked up behind him, intending to hit him or something for being an idiot. However, when I got close, I caught sight of something that wasn't my reflection. It… it was a city. An underground city. Covered in blackness. At least, it looked like a city. But what sort of city? Why was it there? Could I reach it? I wanted to go. I wanted to… to see… something was there. Calling for…

A howl started me right out of my thoughts and I whirled to see a wolf sitting right there in the doorway. Right in front of the statue still watching the area serenely. A strange wolf with snow-white fur. No, not completely white. There was brown too, right on the legs. At least, it looked brown from here. It was a very odd pattern, twining up its legs like branches or vines. What? Who?

Okay, that's it. This place was too strange and dangerous.

"Tamlen, we're leaving!" I snapped. He didn't react to me at all, just kept staring at the mirror. "Tamlen, come on!" I snatched him by the collar. "We're _leaving_!"

"I… I can't…" Tamlen gasped out. What was going on? "I can't look away, falon!" What? "It saw me!" What saw him? "It's pulling me in!"

"Then I'm pulling you _out_!" I tugged him back. It was much harder than it should've been. "Tamlen, I need you to grab my arm so that you don't slip from my grip." It took him a few tries, but he managed. He was still staring at the mirror, though. "Now, whatever you do, don't let go. I won't either. Keep calm, falon. I'll drag you all the way to camp if that's what it takes!"

"Cleon, I'm… I'm scared. It keeps sucking me in. No… no, there's… there's something clawing at my head! Cleon, help!"

"I'll get you to the Keeper. Calm down." In his head? Spirits. There were Spirits about. Had to be. Spirits had taken advantage of the weakened Veil and were not trying to... "Tamlen, falon, listen to me. _Listen_ to me. I'm right here." He started flailing despite my words, reaching for the mirror. Dragging us both back to it. "Tamlen! Tamlen, if you keep this up, you're going to hurt yourself."

"Get it out!" he shrieked. Was he even hearing me? "Get it out of my head! Cleon… Cleon, help me!"

"I'm trying! Falon… Falon, I'm right here. I have you. Just stop flailing and let me help you!" He kept fighting, though. "Tamlen!"

He hit the mirror and something flashed across the surface before a pulse of magic slammed into both of us. Tamlen was ripped from my hand as I hit the wall and felt _something_ crack as I slid down. Everything was blurry. Everything hurt. Could I breathe? Where was Tamlen? He was just here. I just had him. Where was he? I had to get to him. I heard screaming. Terrible screaming. It sounded like Tamlen. Why? Why was he… what else was… I had to get up. I had to help him. He was my best friend. He was my sister's husband. _I had to help him_!

"Stay still." There was someone here. No, something. This woman who appeared in front of me was not human. Her eyes were black and her skin was green. Brown branches twisted about her arms and hands as she brushed my hair out of my face. "All will be well." This was a Spirit. One should _never_ trust a Spirit.

"What… what did you do?" My voice was weak. The words were slurred. But I had… I had to get… Creators, please, make the screaming _stop_! Please! It sounded like someone was being _ripped apart_!

"I got here too late to save you completely." What? Why would…? "Stay still and sleep, da'len." Did she just… why would she… "I will get you to safety."

I tried to protest, but when I blinked I was in a completely different area. The sun was shining. I was outside. The Spirit was nowhere in sight. Instead there was a young girl. Red-gold hair and brown eyes with very pale skin. Did she never see the sun? "Oh, you are conscious!" She spoke oddly and she had a faint accent. I could see now that she was shem'len, though. Was I at her mercy? How pathetic of me. "Commander Duncan, come quick!" There was another? It was… it was so hard to stay awake, so hard to focus. "You are very badly hurt, mister." Oh, she was talking to me again? "I will heal you up as best as I can, though. I hope you do not mind magic very much." Magic? She was a mage? But the shem'len locked up their mages! They never let them free! Not willingly, at least. "You have a concussion, so you might be better served closing your eyes. I imagine things are quite dizzying for you."

"Who… who are…?" I tried to speak anyway. What was going on?

"I am Layla Amell, though I am not certain you will remember that!" She had a strangely calm and sweet smile. It reminded me a lot of Lyna's. "Oh, Commander Duncan, there you are! I was just about to heal him."

"Good, then we can see about getting him to his people. I knew there was a camp nearby." That voice was low, calm and authoritative. It reminded me a lot of Keeper Zathrian's, somehow. A voice that spoke of wisdom far beyond the years lived. The speaker's eyes also reflected great wisdom and pain. I could see that as he leaned over me. Who was he? Who was this strange man with dark skin and hair on his face? "I'm sorry, child." Was he talking to me? "I am so very sorry." For what? What was…?

Creators, what was… going… on?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, part one of the Dalish origin! Argh, random elf words thrown in at random points. Feels off, and I kept wanting to throw in Tolkein's elvish. Oh well. Here's Cleon Mahariel, our 20-year-old Ranger (which I'm defining more as a good with animals and wood stuff than actual summoning of animals as it is in game) who dual-wields knives. I think, like Layla, you can take a guess at one of his future specializations, though, based on his title. Lyna is the default name of a FEMALE Dalish Elf. In game, as the female dalish, you can express interest in Tamlen, with the implication that the two were together or getting together. Here, I have it where Lyna exists, and she's already married to Tamlen. I'm sure I don't have to explain who Merrill is, but I find myself liking the interpretation that she and a Male!Mahariel were involved! And uh… another layer to the reason why Merrill is so obsessed with the eluvian.
> 
> Next Chapter – We're going to take a short break away from the Origin to see just what Layla and Duncan are up to~ (If you're wondering why I'm happy about this, it's because I realized it was a way to split up the super long chapter I was originally planning on posting)


	5. Chapter 4) Ruins

**Chapter 4) Ruins**

_Layla POV_

* * *

" _Layla, what are you doing here?" I jerked my head up to see Wynne walking into the library. "It's late, dear," she continued with a smile. "Have you not noticed?"_

" _No, I am afraid not," I replied honestly. It was hard to tell the time here in the library._

_She came to sit beside me. "Well, what were you reading that had you so engrossed?"_

" _It is just a simple history book." I closed it and held it out to her so that she could see the title._

" _I wouldn't call anything about the Blights, 'simple'." She flipped through a few pages. "Why read this?"_

" _It was mentioned in our history lessons today. Since I had nothing to do, I decided to look further into it."_

" _Nothing to do? You lot?"_

" _Anders and Neria are both busy with girls. Jowan is in detention for the last prank."_

" _Busy with… Oh, I see." She laughed softly. "I remember those days. But you don't seem to be very interested in such things."_

" _I suppose I just haven't met the right one, yet, or something." Even as I said the words, though, my face heated up in a flush._

_Thankfully, Wynne pretended she did not see it. "So, you chose to read about the Blights?"_

" _Yes, I did. I wish I had not, though." I shuddered as I recalled what I had read. "It is quite scary. I am glad they do not exist anymore."_

" _I'm not sure that's something that can be said. Just because something has not happened does not mean it can't."_

" _Then I shall be thankful I will never see such a thing in real life. I am quite happy here in the Circle, and have no intentions of leaving."_

" _And I am glad you see it that way, dear. Truly."_

* * *

"Commander Duncan, why are we returning to the ruins?" I asked as we wandered the woods.

"I need to check something there," he answered me easily, if vaguely.

"I thought you had hoped to be in that oddly named city by now, though."

"Denerim, and yes, but this is something we really need to check. And also…"

"Yes?"

"No, nothing. Hopefully, it's just my paranoia acting up. Careful, there's a root here." Even with the warning, I tripped over it anyway. "Are you all right?"

"I am fine." Considering how many times I had fallen over, I believed my feet were becoming immune.

I would never have considered myself clumsy before. Certainly, I never tripped in the Tower. But there were just so many _things_ out here! There were rocks in the road, roots in the path, and my feet somehow found each and every one. The roads and paths were not smooth, like the floors in the Circle, so I would stumble when I found a small hole. Oh, and the things I could see and feel were so _strange_! The trees were taller than the walls of the Tower; their bark was rough and coarse to the touch. The flowers were bright and cheerful. The wind was gentle yet fierce as it whipped my hair about. The mud clung to the bottom of my robes, worse than any dust.

I was not much liking the world outside of the Tower. There was just too much to focus on. I felt like someone was trying to cram the entire library into my head! It hurt almost as much as my feet. I would much prefer to return, but I had a feeling my request would be denied.

Well, if I could not return, then I hoped we could leave this forest soon. It made me incredibly nervous. "Commander Duncan?"

"Yes?"

"Must we stay here much longer? The Veil is thin, and I do not feel safe."

"We'll be leaving tomorrow," he promised. "I'm not surprised by the Veil, though. Many people died here, in the days long past."

I shuddered at the mere thought. That many deaths… it was a horrid thing to even think of. What could have possibly been worth fighting that much for? There was nothing, really, that I could think of. What good was surviving when you had so much blood on your hands and that many corpses trailing behind you? "Commander Duncan?"

"Yes?"

Could I go home now? "I believe we are almost at the ruins?" At least, that was what I hoped. All these trees looked the same to me.

"Yes, we are. Stay behind me."

"Huh? Why?"

"Just do as I say." I knew that tone. Irving would take that tone whenever something dangerous was near. So, I instinctively did as he ordered, keeping close and staying behind him as a strange sort of noise grew louder and louder. I would say it was talking, but I did not know the language. It sounded harsh and cold. I hated the sound.

I was startled from my thoughts when Commander Duncan grabbed my arm and tugged me behind a tree. "Commander Duncan?"

"Easy," he murmured. "They're right there."

I almost asked what he was talking about, but then I caught sight of them. There were only a handful by the entrance there. There were shorts ones that toddled about on tiny legs, and taller ones with pointed ears and what seemed to be an iron mask over their face. Both, however, were being pushed around by the slightly taller ones, who were dressed in broken armor. It would have been almost comical, if not for how _twisted_ they looked. Their skin was mottled yellow and red, and they bore decaying fangs. Even the ground underneath them could not bear their rank presence, rotting beneath their feet.

Not even a Pride Demon was this terrifying.

"C-C-Commander D-Duncan?" I began shakily. I hoped they would not hear me. "W-what are th-those…?"

"Darkspawn," he answered easily. These… these _things_ were the darkspawn of legend? What sort of disgusting mind conjured them up? Surely, it was not the Maker. "Genlocks, hurlocks… not often we see shrieks this early."

"Pardon?"

"The short ones that resemble dwarves are genlocks." They resembled dwarves? Ugh, what disgusting creatures dwarves must be! "The ones with pointed ears are sharlocks, though we mostly call them shrieks among the Wardens because it reminds us of their most dangerous weapon." Why would they have pointed ears? The only race with pointed ears was the elves, was it not? "The last ones are hurlocks. You will see many genlocks and hurlocks, especially during a Blight."

"Is it strange to see these… shrieks… because they are the rarest?"

"No, the rarest are ogres. Be glad there isn't one of them about."

"How can you tell?"

"Trust me, Layla, you will always be able to tell when an ogre is near." He turned to face me. "Okay, here's what I need you to do." I had to do something? I wanted to _run_. "Do you see in the back that one genlock? The one wielding the staff?" I had to peek out further than I wanted to in order to see it, but I eventually nodded. It was hiding deeper in the ruins. "That's an emissary. Likely, it's commanding the others here. I need you to keep it from casting spells on me while I deal with the others."

"We are fighting?"

"Yes, that's what Wardens do. We can't allow them to reach the other parts of the forest. They'd destroy it."

As much as I hated the place, even I could see just how devastating such a thing would be. "I will do my best."

"Just focus on the mage. I should be able to take the others. Get a shield up in case one slip past me."

"Pardon?"

"Just do it." He ran off before I could ask anything further. "Um… Very well, sir…" Oh, what was I supposed to do? Well, let us see… there _was_ that spell from the Spirit Branch. Yes, that would work out nicely.

As the sounds of fighting rang out, I concentrated on the flow of magic in the area. It was startling just how frayed the Veil was here, and how much the magic crashed about. I had to be extra careful in how I shaped my magic, and how I hunted for the enemy mage in the mess. With that said, once I found it, I was surprised I had not immediately gone for it. The thing's magic was as twisted as its skin. There was just something _wrong_ about it, just as there was something _wrong_ with blood magic. But even with it being so wrong, it was still magic and, thus, would be affected by this simple spell. "Power of mine which flows through the world," I whispered. "Find all spells in the air and spirit and reap them from the soul." There was the danger of harming your fellow mages with it, because of the large area it encompassed, but when you did not have to worry about such things, it was invaluable for making sure your enemies could not take cover behind spells. "At my command, Mana Cleanse." There was a shriek in the distance and I could not help but grin as the creepy little thing stomped about like a child throwing a tantrum as its mana broke apart into the ether. Whatever spell it had been trying to cast, it no longer had the reserves to use it. Mana Cleanse wiped out all spells.

Now that I was thinking about it, it would also disrupt healing spells, wouldn't it? Thank the Maker that this thing was not attempting that. A life was a life, even when it was an enemy's, and I could not bear the thought of accidentally causing a death because I had nullified the-

"Layla!" I snapped my head up to see one of the creatures racing right for me. It was one of those… shriek things, and it was coming from a different direction that the others were. It must have been hiding in the shadows. That was... oh, why was it coming after me?!

W-Well, I suppose I would just have to freeze it in its tracks. I had just the spell to do it, too! "Here me now, whispers of…" Just as I was summoning the magic, though, it shrieked and the pain in my ears startled me into losing control of the spell. Raw magic shot from my hand and went right through its head. It fell at my feet, blood splattering all over my shoes and robes. It was dead. It was _dead_. I… I had _killed_ it.

"Layla, are you all right?" Commander Duncan was by my side, gripping my shoulder. When had he appeared? What about the other things? Did he kill them? "Layla? Did-"

"I killed it." My voice was very, very soft, and it shook so much in just three words. "I killed it."

"…Layla…"

"I did not want to. I was going to just freeze it. I was! But I lost the spell and it went flying and… and…" Why was I freaking out? Why was I panicking? I had killed before. I had killed demons. I had killed Fade creatures. But this… this was different. Even though it had been a twisted _thing_ , it bled. It bled, just like… like I would, if I were hurt. It had truly been _alive_. Yet now it was not. I had killed it. It was _dead_.

"You saved quite a few people by doing so." Commander Duncan's words were soft. "Try to focus on that, when things get hard." I nodded, unable to say another word. "Come on."

He gently took my hand and led the way into the ruins, right past the bodies. I tried to ignore them and study the area, but there was not much to them. Certainly, there was very little to distract me from the blood staining my robe and shoes. There were crumbling walls, broken doors, and foliage twisting about. Once or twice, I thought I caught the remains of a poor soul, but I made myself not take a closer look. I did not like it when things died. I could do nothing for the dead. I learned healing to save people, not watch them die in front of me.

Oh, why could I have not stayed in the Tower? I preferred it there! I wanted to go _home_!

"Ah, so this is where the source is coming from," Commander Duncan said after a long while of meandering about. We were at some strange door in a corridor. I glanced inside to see an odd mirror, one that made my skin crawl. I was not sure what 'source' he was talking about, but I certainly did not like it. "I'm going to investigate further in here. Stay out here until I get back. It's dangerous in there."

Wait, so I was to stay out here, alone? But I would rather… no, wait, I did _not_ want to go into that room. So, instead, I nodded and he let go of my hand to walk away. "Commander Duncan," I whispered, as I remembered something important. He paused in the doorway. "Beware of corpses and spirits. They can reach through more easily when the Veil is thin, and this place seems to be filled with things long gone."

"Thank you for the warning," he replied. I… got the feeling he already knew that. Oh, how embarrassing! "Shout if you see anything."

"Very well." He disappeared in the room and I kept myself busy by studying the strange statue placed in front of the door.

I would be very happy to leave this place, and never _ever_ return. I would be very, _very_ happy indeed.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just a cute little intermission with Layla and Duncan. Just little things like Layla getting a bunch of shocks. Fun, fun! (If it wasn't obvious, Layla is NOT really a fighter, just a mage who fends off demons. Oh, I'm going to have fun with her~ hehehe, hello, Ostagar!)  
> Darkspawn DO appear in the Dalish Origin. Instead of having Cleon kill them though, as he would in game, I'm having Layla take care of it! Mana Cleanse is a… slightly bugged spell that does the opposite of what it says in game without a patch. I'm just going to assume it does exactly what it's supposed to. For now, at least.  
> Why do I have darkspawn magic being 'wrong' and 'twisted' and 'like blood magic'? Well, it's mentioned that demons/spirits don't really know what to make of darkspawn, implying they don't ever go into the Fade, and darkspawn were said to be born from Tevinter Sin. What magic doesn't require mana and is famous in the Imperium? Blood magic.
> 
> Next Chapter – The rest of the Dalish Origin with Cleon


	6. Chapter 5) Corrupted

**Chapter 5) Origin of the Shadow Assassin – Corrupted**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_I was young. Young, naïve, and foolish. But even I knew what the discussion of today would be. I knew enough about my parents to know that they had not been formally married. Because of this, the Keepers would be discussing what should be done with us. My sister and me. Children of Keeper and Hunter, a secret union. Neither of us had magic, but they would still decide what would happen to us._ _Stay with the Clan? Move to another? Together or separated? So many possibilities. Even though I was young, I knew enough. And I was scared. So, so scared._

" _Why are you away from the others, da'len?" I looked up to see someone approach. I knew him. Keeper Zathrian. Hahren Paivel had said he'd been good friends with my father. Still, I didn't answer him, just stared. Studied. I could see the bloodshot eyes, the tear marks on his face. He'd been crying. Silently. "What's wrong?"_

" _I don't want to leave." The words were quick. "I… I don't want to leave my Clan."_

"… _So, you know, despite Marethari's best efforts."_

" _Ashalle was crying. I… I tried to find out who did it, but…" Hesitantly, I reached out and gripped his robe. "I don't want to leave. I want to stay, here, with Lyna and Ashalle and Tamlen and… and everyone."_

" _So certain." He knelt down to look me in the eye, smiling reassuringly. "Why is that?"_

" _My father lived there. My mamae died there." I felt closest to them there. "I love the people there. It's home. I never want to leave."_

_He studied me for a moment. "You've your father's eyes." Huh? "I can guarantee nothing, Cleon, but I will speak on your behalf. I promise you that."_

_Really? "Ma serannas!"_

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a familiar sight. This was my… I was home. I was back at camp. How… when… what was going on?

"Cleon?" I turned to the entrance to see Lyna there. "You… you're awake?" Her voice was shaky.

"Seems so?" My voice was soft, raspy even. Why was that? What all had happened? "Lyna? You okay? You look pale."

"Oh… oh, blessed be you and your mercy, Creators!" She practically tackled me off the bed as she started to bawl. "Stupid Cleon! Stupid, stupid, stupid brother!"

"Hey, easy there," I murmured, patting her on the back. "You'll stress the baby."

"Then you should've not have been carried back with a fever, with a healer mentioned of the injuries she healed, which, by the way, included a cracked skull, and Tamlen should've not _disappeared_!"

Did I just hear that? "What do you mean Tamlen disappeared?" I'd ignore the injuries to myself _later_.

Sniffling, she pulled away, rubbing harshly at her eyes. "That strange man and mage brought you back," she explained. "But… but just you. We asked about Tamlen, but they only found you."

"He must still be in those stupid ruins." I moved to get out of my cot. "I have to go get him."

"You _have_ to get dressed, reassure Ashalle and Merrill, and talk to Keeper Marethari." And she was giving me that 'if you don't obey, I will scream and bawl' look. "Here, let me get you your clothes."

"Fine, fine." I sighed. She got up and bustled about. "Okay, be honest. Before I step out, do I look all right?"

"You're being vain _now_ of all times?"

"Well, I _am_ your twin, Miss 'does this dress make me look fat even though I'm pregnant'." She stuck her tongue out at me. "And no, I meant more like do I look like I did before? Some very strange things happened, Lyna."

"If you say so." She set down a pile of clothes besides me and made of show of studying me closely. "Well, your vallaslin are intact, still the simple version of Mythal's. You're just as tan as before. Hair is nice and brown and your eyes are still the sparkling green that Merrill oh-so loves." I made a face and she laughed. "You look thinner, Cleon, but you've been horribly sick for nearly two days. That's no surprise."

"I see… two days?!"

"I didn't bawl for no reason," she muttered. "Keeper Marethari said your fever broke, but you were groaning and screaming in your sleep half a day longer. It was terrifying. The da'len were convinced you were being attacked by a monster and made all these little gifts to keep you safe and Master Ilen carved little weapons for your spirit to use to fight off whatever was plaguing you. They're there by the entrance. Hahren Paivel had to work really hard to keep the peace because Keeper Marethari was so busy and _everyone_ was worried about you. Even the halla. Maren had to work really hard to keep the halla calm, since they love you so much. Oh, and Merrill and I broke down twice each, once in public. You may thank Vinell for calming Merrill for you, by the way."

…Oh, Creators… "I have a lot to make up for, huh?"

"You know it. And before I forget to mention it, Ashalle sat right outside until Keeper Marethari announced that you should be fine and didn't budge one bit, and you know how her back still hurts from that tree incident!"

I winced at that. Ashalle was essentially my mother. I always went out of my way to not cause her distress, and what did I end up doing? "I'm sorry." No, that was too tame. I'd horribly hurt the clan. But what else could I say?

"Just… look, stand up and let me help you."

"All right."

It didn't take long for me to get dressed. It wasn't the first time Lyna helped me with it after all. We'd _both_ taken wounds in the past that made dressing difficult and saw nothing wrong with siblings helping each other. She remained behind to clean up the room as I stepped outside and breathed the fresh air. The Clan was bustling about as usual. No, with more fervor than usual. Was something wrong? Was it Tamlen? I'd need to find someone soon to ask.

Of course, I hadn't taken two steps before someone enveloped me in a hug. "You're awake." I would recognize that voice, and the hug, anywhere, even if it was thicker than usual because of crying. Ashalle. "Mythal, I thank you for hearing my prayer and protecting him."

"I'm sorry, Ashalle," I mumbled awkwardly, returning her hug. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, hush, and stop being so serious. No one in their right mind asks to be so ill, and I know you're in your right mind. Most days." She pulled away and started messing around with my clothes and hair. It was a habit of hers, to reassure herself that Lyna and me were okay after some sort of injury or illness. "Go walk around camp and let everyone that you're okay, will you?" She smiled at me, patting my cheek. "Start with Ilen. I swear; I don't think that man has _slept_ since you were brought back."

"He's working, right?" Not sleeping? But he _needed_ sleep for his crafting and… oh, he'd better not have nearly taken his fingers off again.

"Yes, so off you go." Nodding at her order, I kissed her cheek in farewell before making my way towards Master Ilen's work area. I thought about going straight there, but then decided to go the slightly longer way. More would see me that way.

Like Fenarel, who ambushed me with a hug as I passed by a group of hunters. "You're awake!" he laughed, beaming. "You had us all worried, you know."

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "Really."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, no accidents on our end. We knew you'd feel horrible about it, so we took extra care." Oh, good. "You've the gods' own luck, lethalin."

"Or I just used up all that they allotted me."

"Stop being so serious." He laughed, but then he slung an arm over my shoulder to whisper, "Hey, there are hunters looking for Tamlen, but I think the Keeper is going to see if you and Merrill can check the ruins. Do you mind if I come along?"

"I'd welcome it," I replied. "But ask the Keeper first."

"I'll get on that. Don't leave until I come and let you know what she said?"

"Of course." I'd be busy for a while anyway.

"Cleon, over here!" I heard Junar call as Fenarel raced off. I almost asked why he wanted me near the area our hunters practiced their archery when I noticed the new face. "Come and greet our newest clan member!"

"Well, aneth ara, lethallin!" I laughed, walking up. I made sure to smile and move slowly. The elf looked like he was ready to bolt. "Stuck with Junar, then?"

"Haha, Cleon." Junar rolled his eyes. "Pol, this is Cleon, our best huntsman. He prefers knives to the bow, though."

"I'm not the best."

"One of the best."

"Junar, I will kick you." Junar laughed and I sighed. "Well, Pol, you all right?"

"Y-yeah," Pol squeaked. "Just a little nervous."

"What brought you to our Clan?"

"Uh… well, see, my brother and I were actually on our way to a wedding in the Denerim Alienage and… well, I decided that I wanted to live free among the Dalish, and, you know, not be trapped marrying a stranger, so I fled to the forest. And got lost."

"One of our hunters found him yesterday," Junar continued. "He's not bad. A couple of months and I think we can make him as good a hunter as anyone."

"Well, he does have the best teacher." Junar rolled his eyes at me and I laughed. "I'd stay to talk more, but I've rounds to make."

"That you do. You scared basically everyone."

"Right. Until later." I waved as I continued on my way to Master Ilen's work area.

Luckily for me, he wasn't in the middle of molding ironbark. It was _never_ wise to interrupt him then. "I'd heard you were awake!" he laughed, swinging over his workbench to clap me on the shoulder. "You had us worried."

"So I've been hearing," I replied, trying not to wince at the fresh bandages on his hands. He _had_ hurt himself.

"I bet you have. But you're going to have to go on a fetch quest for me later. My apprentices were so worried that they ruined a couple of bows."

Oh, you have got to be kidding me. This was why I always took care to not get injured or sick in the first place! "I'm sorry."

"Well, if losing the bows meant we got to keep you, I don't mind." His smile faded. "I don't know what we'd do if we lost you, Cleon. Especially so suddenly. Your father's death… ah, you don't need to hear this from me." My father's unexpected death. That was the reason why everyone was so scared. They had all loved him and, because I was his son, they loved me. Only one person hadn't, at least enough to stay. My mamae had abandoned Lyna and me not long after giving birth. Everyone said she just broke when it was announced that my father was dead, dead from an _ambush_ of all things. My mother had called him out to tell him of her pregnancy and they'd… he gave his life to protect her. Her, one of the best hunters of the Elvhen, saved by the one she loved most. She was, apparently, never quite right after that, like she'd died with him and left to make it official or something strange like that. I wished she'd stayed a bit longer, though. Just enough for one memory. A memory of my own, not some… mess of impressions from stories. Father didn't have the choice. He'd left because it was impossible to heal his wounds in time. But she did. She _had_ that choice. And I really, really wished she'd chosen differently.

"I shall endeavor to not worry the Clan so much again," I promised, shaking the wishes out of my head. There was nothing to be done about them. "For now, though, I still have people to reassure."

"Yes, go on." His smile returned and he ruffled my hair. He had a habit of doing that when he was saying goodbye. "Try not to cause a stampede."

"Yes, sir." Right then, the next destination in camp would be… would be to go to the fire where Hahren Paivel was lecturing the da'len. Because I knew what was coming and I wanted to get it out of the way.

"Cleon!" some of the da'len called, racing up to hug my legs as I approached the central fire. That was where he always gave the lectures, and it wasn't far from Master Ilen's workplace. "Yay! You won!" "You beat the monsters!" "Knew you would!" "Cleon, can you play with us now?"

"Settle down," Hahren Paivel ordered. "Yes, it's good that Cleon is awake, but keep babbling all at once at him, and you might tire him too quickly." They quickly went back to their seats around the fire. "Talk among yourselves for a while, so that I can talk to Cleon." Yeah, 'talk'. I knew that look on his face. I was about to get a lecture. I always got lectures from him. Despite him being such good friends with my father, I never seemed to be able to measure up in his eyes.

"Yes, Hahren?" I whispered as the da'len obeyed. Here it comes.

"What were you two _thinking_ , wandering into that cave?" He kept his tone civil and even, which made it all the worse. "Without even coming for the Keeper first."

"Well, Tamlen insisted and-"

"And you've no mind of your own?"

"He went ahead. Was I to leave him alone?"

"You are stronger, and taller, than him. You should've dragged him back." I winced. Yes, I should've done that. I _tried_ to do that in the end. I failed, miserably. "There are prices we will not pay for lore, and the lives of our hunters is one of them."

"He wanted to see if it was an elvish ruin."

"You still should've come back."

"…Yes, sir."

"Good that you are listening." And wanted to crawl into a hole. "Now then, what should we do as punishment, Marethari?" I turned to see the Keeper approaching with a soft smile. Of course, the soft smile meant nothing. She would often smile before giving you a lecture that made you feel like a two year old.

"I do not know, Paivel," she replied with a light laugh. "Another story study, and you might as well be training him to be your successor as hahren."

"I enjoy hunting, and Hahren Paivel will probably outlive me," I tried to joke. The joke fell flat at how close it had been. "I thank you, Keeper Marethari, for helping me."

"There's no need to thank me, Cleon. You know this." Did I ever. Keeper Marethari was somewhere between sister and mother to me. My father had treated her like his daughter before his death, and it was a relationship that bled over in her interactions with Lyna and me. "But he is right on a punishment. Paivel, perhaps you can come up with one after the lessons today? I need to speak to Cleon."

"Of course," Hahren Paivel replied, giving me a stern look. As always, I squirmed under it. Argh… what did I have to do to get some praise from him? I worked as hard as I could! I took my duties seriously! Yes, I slipped every so often, but… "Until then."

He walked away, and I found myself at the sole attention of Keeper Marethari. Joy of joys. "I am grateful Duncan found you when he did," she whispered. Duncan? An odd name. "A dark power held you and it took much of my magic to save you." I had a lot to repay, then. "Tell me. Did you see twisted creatures when you were in the ruins?"

"No, none," I answered honestly. "We saw nothing alive, once we entered." Just a very, very strange mirror.

"You are certain? No strange thing?"

"No." Wait, no, there was… "No, wait, there was something strange. When Tamlen and I find that mirror, there was a wolf. Then a Spirit."

"A mirror? Wolf and Spirit?" She sighed heavily. "I have never heard of such things in the lore we've collected." So, Tamlen and I _did_ stumble on something important. "I had hoped for answers, but it seems the Creators wished for more questions instead."

"Abelas, Keeper."

"No, do not apologize. I am merely worried." She sighed again. "Tamlen remains missing, as I'm sure you've heard. He is more important than any sort of lore, and if his condition is anything like yours, then the situation is grave."

"I'm prepared to go back to the ruin," I answered immediately.

"Are you certain you're well enough?"

"Always."

"I'm relieved to hear that." She smiled, but it soon fell. "You must move quickly, though. I've ordered the camp to pack up, so that we can move north."

"What for?"

"The nearby humans are making a fuss." …Of course they were. "Did you and Tamlen…?"

"We encountered some, threatened them, but ultimately let them go." And what did they do? Make a fuss anyway.

"That is the way of things, sometimes. We would've had to move soon anyway, due to the Blight." She patted my shoulder even as I tried to remember what a 'Blight' was. I could only remember that it had something to do with the Wardens. Hahren Paivel had starting telling stories of the warriors and their deeds recently. "Find Merrill and head off. Behave."

"Yes, Keeper."

"Until you return, da'len." I bowed in respect, before walking away, hunting around for where Merrill would be waiting. As I hunted, though, I noticed something peculiar. The halla were all staring at me, looking troubled over something.

"Maren, is everything all right with the halla?" I asked as I finally gave in and approached where they were grazing. "There's not an illness or something, is there?"

"No, not at the moment," Maren replied, as she set about soothing her charges. She was the one who tended to our halla, an important job. "No, they are just quite nervous. They sense something we can't see." She looked to me. "They're worried about you still. Are you truly well?"

"I feel it," I answered. "I'm more tired, yes, but otherwise…"

"I see. Maybe it's just leftover, then. They were all afraid that some trick would take you away." What trick? "Ah, but please, don't let me keep you. Merrill is just over there, by the aravel."

"Thanks." I smiled and waved a goodbye as I walked away. Let's see… providing Maren wasn't playing a trick on me, then…

"Oh! Cleon!" Ah, and there was Merrill. She looked _wonderful_ , just as always. "There you are! Are you all right? I mean; you look all right, more than all right… um… wait, that wasn't what I…"

"Hey to you too," I laughed softly, smiling at her. "Sorry to worry you."

"I knew you would be fine. Well, I hoped it really hard, so I pretended I knew. I think the Keeper would scold me for that, though." She giggled and smiled back. "I'm glad I was right, though. It's been a long two days."

"Well, what can I do to make it up?"

"Um… well…"

I laughed and brushed a quick kiss over her mouth. "Does that help?"

"Oh, yes. Quite." She was blushing, but still smiling. "Perhaps anoth-?"

"Do I need to make another round through camp to give you some time alone?" Fenarel asked dryly as he approached. I mimed a blow at him and he laughed. "Seriously, should I? I know how a promised couple can be."

"No," I sighed. Right, Fenarel had been married for almost as long as Tamlen had. "Tamlen's been alone for two days."

"Right, so we must go immediately," Merrill agreed. "Cleon and I can be alone later. Hopefully. I'd like that, at least."

"Well, I'll do my part and help you two out," Fenarel laughed. "Oh, don't make that face, Merrill. Keeper Marethari gave me permission. So let's find our wayward friend. If we leave now, we'll have him back home before the sun rests!"

Creators, please let that be the case. Please…

* * *

"Well, here it is," I told them quietly as we approached the ruins. My instincts were screaming even louder this time. "The room we're looking for is deep inside it."

"Oh, what are those things at the entrance?" Fenarel asked. I almost demanded what he was talking about, but then I saw the corpses. I'd never seen such twisted creatures before. They were definitely of different, yet similar, race, though. Most looked as if they'd been felled by blade, but one, farther away from the others, looked as if it had been attacked with magic. Quite violently too. What sort of sick mind killed like that?

"They're quite unusual," Merrill commented, kneeling down to get a closer look. I immediately dragged her back up. "Cleon?" I didn't answer, just stared at the blood. "Cleon?"

"There's… sorry, instinct," I murmured. The blood… something was wrong about that blood. It made me sick to look at. "They weren't there before."

"I see. Well, Tamlen's not near."

"Then let's head in and get out."

"All right." She studied me closely before shyly kissing my cheek. "You okay?"

"Well, if I wasn't before…"

"So, any traps I need to be aware of while you two flirt?" Fenarel asked dryly as he went on ahead.

"Not if we go the route Tamlen and I did," I sighed, making a face at him. He laughed. "Come on. I'll lead."

"If you say… wow, I don't blame Tamlen for wanting to explore."

"I do."

"Well, yeah, in retrospect."

"Step where I do, please."

Everything was just as it had been before. The same broken doors. The same crumbling walls. The same twisting trees. Every so often, though, I caught something that I thought might be different, and wondered if it was a result of whatever it was that had carried me back to the entrance.

"I hear something," Fenarel whispered. I nearly jumped at the sound. He and Merrill had been perfectly silent as I led the way. "How close are we?"

I glanced around. "Around this corner, we'll see the statue that marks the door," I answered.

"I'll peek around the corner then, just in case." At my nod, he did just that. "Well, there's a young girl standing there. Can't see much, other than she's wearing some odd clothes for traveling, has some blood on the bottom of her dress, and her hair is a slightly redder version of Lyna's."

"Elf?"

"Nah, shem'len."

"I suppose it is heartwarming to see that there are yet shem'len willing to risk a slow death for treasure."

"Wait, hold on," Merrill mumbled, peering around Fenarel. "Oh, Cleon, go up and thank her."

What? "For…?"

"She's the one who healed you." Oh. Oh, and she was pouting. "So, go thank her." Welp, I was definitely going to. Honestly, the worst thing Merrill could do to anyone was make those frowny faces.

"Is someone there?" someone called then. I assumed it was the shem'len girl. Her accent was very odd, and sounded quite shaken. "Hello?"

"We're just looking for someone," Merrill answered, stepping out with a smile. She was always one to trust blindly. "Hello again."

"Oh, you are the girl who demanded to know what happened to her lover!" Well, that was fun to note. "You did not come alone, did you?"

"No, there are two others." She pouted at Fenarel and me. "Please come out before I embarrass myself further?"

"I don't see why not," Fenarel laughed, dragging me with him. "Why are you here, girl?"

"Oh, I am glad to see you are on your feet," the girl said, _completely_ ignoring Fenarel's question to focus on me. "You were in quite the bad state. Are you feeling well? You probably should not have been walking such a distance."

"You… could answer my friend's question," I replied slowly. She talked fast, and was strangely bubbly for this place. She also looked incredibly relieved. What had shaken her so much?

"Eh? Oh! I am so sorry! My deepest apologies! Ah, how could I be so rude?" She was… actually flailing. How old was she? "What was the question again, Ser? I really am sorry."

"Just what are you doing here?" Fenarel repeated, smiling in stunned amusement. I agreed with him. _Never_ had I met a shem'len like her.

"Oh, Commander Duncan wanted to check this place over for anyone we missed last time. I heard the sound of glass breaking just a few seconds ago, so I believe he destroyed the mirror inside. I hope he does not get seven years of bad luck."

"Destroy…?" Merrill repeated, eyes widening. "But… but that's a piece of our heritage!"

"One that you would be better off forgetting." _That_ voice belonged to the armored shem'len who stepped out of the room. Mirror shards clung to his armor, but he casually brushed them off. "The last that I heard of these, they were in Imperium care."

"But…"

"Commander Duncan, it _is_ important to them," the shem'len girl pointed out, bending down to pick up a shard. "Well, it is impossible to repair a mirror, but perhaps you can find out something from the pieces." Without fear, she ran up and placed a shard in Merrill's hands. "Shall I find you more?"

"No, this… will hopefully be enough."

"Regardless, we still have hunting to do," I pointed out, shoving aside my unease at the shard in Merrill's hand. I would forever hate mirrors, I think, from this point on. Especially mirrors in ruins.

"Yeah, for Tamlen," Fenarel added, likely clarifying for the two shem'len.

"I'm afraid there is nothing that can be done for your friend." Everything froze with the armored shem'len's words. "We are the only living things in this ruin. We checked every inch of it. He is gone." …Wha…? No, I had to be hearing wrong. Nothing I could do for him? He was gone? Tamlen? Tamlen, my best friend, my brother? _Gone_? I couldn't accept that. I _wouldn't_ accept it. Tamlen… Tamlen had to be…!

The world swirled with my thoughts and it took a moment to realize it was because I was dizzy and was losing my balance. "Cleon!" That was Merrill. She sounded worried. Again. I was worrying her _again_. "Oh, I knew you were pushing yourself too much! I should've made you rest back at the entrance. Cleon, emma lath, let's head back before you collapse."

"Tamlen," I whispered, shaking my head to try and focus. "I have to find…"

"There's nothing to be done for your friend and if you're not careful, there will be nothing that can be done for _you_ ," the armored shem'len countered. He had a hand on the girl shem'en's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

I wanted to protest, but there was something in that shem'len's old eyes that told me that there would be no point to it. There really _wasn't_ anything to do for Tamlen except… except… Oh, Lyna, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, but I… I failed to protect…

Ah, Creators, I wish you would return so that I could ask why Tamlen had to… to _die_ like this. Just _why_?

* * *

I was feeling _physically_ better when we returned to the camp. Mentally, though, I would freely admit, at least to myself, that I was a wreck. Tamlen was gone. I had _failed_ to save him. Those screams… they must have been his. He'd been so afraid and those _screams_ …

The Keeper was waiting for us, right on the edge of the camp. "I'm relieved to see you all returned," she greeted. "I did not, however, expect to see you so soon, Duncan."

"Yes, neither of us were expecting to return quite so soon," the armored shem'len replied respectfully. His girl companion smiled and curtseyed at the Keeper. Well, at least they knew to show respect.

"Quite." She focused on me. "Dare I ask about Tamlen?" I shook my head in reply. I couldn't voice it. "I see." She closed her eyes and worked on keeping her calm. "What of the mirror?"

"I destroyed it," the armored shem answered. "You have darkspawn in your woods, by the way." Darkspawn? Were those the strange creatures at the entrance?

"…I see." She opened her eyes again, and she looked incredibly weary suddenly. "Merrill, why don't you take the young mage here and give her a couple of our potion remedies, as thanks for earlier?" Merrill nodded and quickly took the girl by the hand to lead her away. Likely, Merrill was going to babble about magic to her. She didn't have many she could talk to about magic, after all. "Fenarel, please go inform Paivel of the events, and then warn the hunters about the darkspawn." Fenaral nodded, bowed, and raced off. "Now then, Duncan. What you spoke of… has it…?"

"Yes, it has." Huh? "He is infected with the Taint. There is only one cure for that, as I told you."

"Yes, I know."

"What's going on?" I asked softly. "I'm confused, Keeper."

"The Darkspawn Taint courses through your veins," the shem explained. "That you recovered at all is remarkable, but it is a temporary thing. It will eventually sicken and kill you. The Wardens have a way to prevent that, but it means joining us."

…What? "And I don't suppose you could just give me the cure and I go about frolicking through the forests?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Keeper?" I turned to her. She refused to look at me. "Keeper, please tell me…"

"I can see no other way, Cleon," she whispered. "You can stay, of course. It would mean slow death, though. I can only treat the symptoms of the Taint. I cannot cure them."

This was not happening."Might I…?" My voice cracked. My throat was dry. "Might I have a bit of time to…?"

"I can give you into morning," the shem answered. Morning. Right. Morning. I could totally process everything and make a decision by… oh, what was the point of lying to myself?

"Can you not wait longer?" Keeper Marethari asked softly. Yes, more time would be _lovely_.

But the shem shook his head. "I had hoped to be in Denerim by now, actually," he explained. "The child of someone I tried to recruit before is of age now, and I'd like to see if he inherited his mother's skills." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I… we're running out of time. All of us are. I _need_ more recruits to try and make up for low numbers, and I need them quickly." He sounded tired. How old was he anyway? "Whatever is chosen, I will abide by it. I lingered only because I wanted to make sure he had a choice if he was Tainted, and to see if I could find your missing hunter."

"I see." She closed her eyes. I knew she was holding back a sigh. "I should've listened that first time. But I had so hoped…"

"I'll have an answer by then." I tried to make my voice confident as I interrupted, but it was not only weak, it shook. "I promise," I continued. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But neither would solve this. Just had to accept it.

"I'm sorry you have to give one," he told me. "I'm so sorry."

"…You apologized for it already, didn't you? I… I vaguely remember…"

"I thought I sensed it then, yes. Why don't you go and try to think things through?"

"Yeah. Sure." Even if it was at the suggestion of a shem'len, it was good advice, so I took it and walked away. Everything that had happened… well, that could all wait. There was a decision to be made, one that didn't require processing of the past. There were only two options, after all, and I only had a short time to choose. Shove everything to the side. Shove what happened aside and focus on the two options and _pick_.

Stay and die, or leave and live. Stay among the people I loved and cared for and die a slow death or leave everything I have ever known, possibly to never see them again, and live a life I never wanted, or would _ever_ want.

Well, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to stay and live. That wasn't an option. And… and this decision wouldn't just affect me. It would affect the people around me, some more than others. In fact… in fact, this shouldn't be made without input from one of the people who would be affected the _most_. So, as I tried to get all my thoughts in order, I hunted for Merrill. It wasn't hard. She was, as expected, near Keeper Marethari's tent to set up preparations.

"Oh, Cleon!" she greeted me with a sad smile. The shem'len girl was nowhere near. Where had she gone? "Already done with the talk? I thought it would go longer."

"Yeah…" I mumbled. Creators… Creators, how was I…?

"Cleon? What's wrong? Oh, the Keeper didn't scold you, did she? Do that scary frowny thing that turns your bones to jelly?"

"I wish. I could handle that." I sighed. "Merrill, mind coming with me so that we're not overheard?"

"Of course not." She gently took one of my hands and studied my face. "Cleon, you look like you're going to cry."

"Well, I feel like it, but… come on, I don't want the clan overhearing this. That… that shem'len brought some news."

"All right." She tugged me over to the woods nearby, away from where everyone was gathering. "I like that girl. She's sweet. Though she had no idea what a squirrel was. I guess that means her companion doesn't have one stuck to his chin, huh?"

"Shem'len sometimes grow hair on their face. Well, the male ones. That was in the talks about them."

"Well, yes, I know that. But if you saw that, wouldn't you think that a squirrel was attached?"

"Never known a squirrel to be so still."

"Oh. Right. Oops." She giggled before turning to face me. By this point, we were only within shouting distance of the Clan. "So, what's wrong?"

"I…" I sighed, let go of her hand, and leaned back on a tree. "Well, I'm dying."

She stared for a moment. "Cleon, that's not very funny."

"It's not supposed to be."

"The Keeper said you were fine, though."

"She was wrong. I just didn't die to the first bout."

"Well, we'll look up the cure."

"There's only one."

"Okay, then we'll get it to you."

"That's the problem."

"What problem? Cleon, you know I'm stubborn."

"That shem'len offered the cure, but it comes at a bit of a price."

"I'm sure we can figure out how to pay. What are those silly coins they use again?"

"Not that sort of price." We were talking so fast. This was normal for her, though. Merrill would always talk fast when nervous or scared. Sometimes, she'd even babble.

"Well, what sort of price, Cleon?"

"I'd have to leave."

She was silent, just staring. It was like someone had punched her. I guess I sorta had. "Why?" she whispered. "Why would you…?"

"The only 'cure' is to become a Warden, apparently," I mumbled. "You know the stories. Hahren Paivel once told us about them, remember?"

She nodded. "You'd have to leave." Her voice was still so soft. "If you're going to live, you'd have to leave."

"Yes."

She was silent for a bit longer. "What… what do you want to do?"

"Well, I don't want to die and I don't want to leave. That option is no longer viable, though."

"I… I see." She was shaking now. I pulled her into a hug without thinking about it. "…I want you to live."

"Even if it means leaving?"

"Y-yes… I… I want you to _live_ , Cleon. I can… I can handle not seeing you, if I know you're somewhere alive."

"Okay."

"Is that what you want? Is that okay with you? I'll do anything for you, Cleon, so…"

"Like I said, I want to live and stay. I can't do both, so I have to pick. If you pick that option, then I'll… I'll be okay with it."

"…All right…" She was still shaking as she twisted her fingers into my shirt. "Okay."

"What… do you want to do about…?" I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"…Can… well, if you find someone you like, or just want to take up with, I don't want you to _not_ , since it's a bunch of new things and…" She almost fell into her babbling, but her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. "But… but I don't… I don't want anything _final_ until…"

"We meet again?" She nodded. "I… can agree to that. I don't know when…" If ever.

"I can wait. I'm good at that."

"But if you find someone who makes you happy, don't let my memory hold you back." The words were hard to say. "If there's a person you fall in love with, or just…" What phrase did she _just_ use? "Take up with, don't hold back on my account."

"I… I think this is what Lyna would call an… 'open relationship?" We both burst into giggles at the attempt of a joke, even though it wasn't funny at all. "Oh… um… do… do you want your token b-back?"

"Only if you feel the need." I didn't want it back. I didn't want the necklace I'd carved for her. That would be too… too final. I didn't want finality. Not yet.

"I'd like to keep it, if you don't mind. It… it reminds me that a wonderful man loved me, and… and might come back."

"'Loves' you," I corrected instantly. "I haven't _stopped_ and I won't ever."

"Cleon…" Her breath hitched again, but she tried to keep herself from crying. "Oh, I need to give you a gift for when you leave."

"I don't need one, Merrill. I wear your token too, you know." Please don't ask for it back. Please don't ask for this ring back. Even if we were… ah… 'opening' the relationship, I still wanted to pretend…

"Well, yes, but that's just to remind you that there's a silly little girl who's madly in love with you and is waiting." She gave me a shaky smile. I did my best to return it. "I need to give you a gift as a friend, and as the First, too. Please? It's… it's the only way I can…"

"Whatever it is, I will carry it gladly." Without thinking about it, I made to kiss her. I checked the motion, only for her to kiss me. It was desperate, longing, and filled with everything she wanted to say, but couldn't voice. I returned it with my own unsaid feelings. Sometimes, actions were better than words, anyway.

* * *

Merrill went back to her preparations. I went to find the other two people who I knew, without a doubt, I had to tell. My twin and my mother deserved to hear what would happen from me, not the Keeper.

Lyna was the first one I found. I wasn't sure if I was happy about that or not.

"There you are," she mumbled, grabbing my arm. As usual, she managed to sneak up on me. She was good at being stealthy. "Merrill can have you back tonight, but I need my big brother for a bit."

…Ow, ow, why did Lyna _always_ manage to make things hurt the worst when she wasn't even trying? "Well, I have something I need to tell you anyway," I told her.

"You do? …Oh, you do. I don't like that look, either. This isn't going to be good."

"Nope."

"Ugh… okay, okay. Let's just hide behind the trees here…" She quickly tugged me back into the woods I'd just left. Both she and Lyna preferred the woods for secrets. The trees couldn't talk, after all. "Okay. Just be your normal blunt self. Talking around the bush will only make things-"

"I'm leaving," I whispered. Three… two… one…

"What? No!" she protested immediately. I knew she would. "No, no, no. I just lost Tamlen, Cleon. This is a cruel joke."

"You know me, Lyna, better than anyone."

"No. No, it's a joke. A mean and bad one. It has to be. You are _not_ leaving me. You're not leaving Merrill. You're not leaving Ashalle. You're not leaving the Clan. You are _not_!"

"Don't yell. You'll stress-"

"Then take back the joke!" Tears were streaming down her face. She knew. She knew, but she didn't want to accept. She'd wanted the bad news to be something else. Anything else. "Take it back!"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because if I stay, I'll die." She froze at that, just staring. Just staring at me with those broken blue eyes still crying bitterly. "That illness I got? That's just the _beginning_ , Lyna. I'm all right now, but I'll eventually get back to that state, and worse. It's death, a slow death."

"I… but…" She covered her face with her hands. "What about… about Merrill?"

"We came to the decision together."

"And your promise?"

"We… decided to hold onto the items, but wait to decide if it's one we still want to pursue when we next meet."

"So… so, you can't just… just get the cure or whatever and come back?"

"No. That doesn't seem to be the case. I will leave the Clan."

I waited as she continued silently crying. I knew that she was trying to do what I still hadn't. Process everything. "You… you will come back," she muttered after a moment.

"I just said-"

"No, you will." She dropped her hands to reveal a tearful glare. "You will survive this and you will come back, at some point, to check on me and see your nephew or niece. You _will_."

"I…" I couldn't help but smile. This was just like her. "Yes, I promise to not die. You could've just asked."

"I… I wouldn't be 'me' if I did."

"True." I used my sleeve to dry her tears. "Lyna, don't stress. You know I keep my promises."

"Which is why I make sure I force you to make them." She grabbed me in a hug. "So, you have to survive, no matter what, until we meet again."

"At which point, you'll extract another promise out of me."

"Well, duh." I could feel her trying to calm down. She'd probably bawl again later, during the funeral, but she would try to be dignified until that point. "I'm staying with you tonight, okay?"

"Of course."

"Okay." She stepped back and roughly rubbed at her eyes. "I'll find you during the funeral. You and Merrill."

"Okay." She nodded, avoided looking me in the eye, and ran off to continue preparations.

I was trying to decide which direction to begin my hunt for Ashalle when a small hand touched my shoulder. I turned to see it was that shem'len mage from before. The one I… should know the name of. She'd given it to me. I could remember that, now. Of course, I couldn't remember what it _was_ , though. Typical. "Commander Duncan and I will be camping nearby," she explained. "He said we would be by in the morning, for something. He did not explain it well. I think he is really tired."

I could see that. I saw it before. "…Do you mind giving him a message in return?"

"I will be delighted."

Well, this was it. "Tell him that I will accept his offer of recruitment." There, polite enough. Maybe.

"Oh, so that is what this is about?" She smiled warmly. "He is quite silly sometimes, rather like Irving. I will let him know immediately, and look forward to traveling with you." She skipped off and I watched her go. Well, that was it. Official. Now I just had to find Ashalle…

Except she found me. I turned around and suddenly she was right there, looking so sad. I tried to say something, but before I could get one word out, she hugged me tightly. "You'll be leaving, yes?" she whispered. "Please, I don't want to watch you die."

"So, you already know?" I mumbled, leaning into the hug. "How?"

"Keeper Marethari told Paivel and me, just in case. We were to go hunt for the Warden and beg him for help if you didn't wake up."

"I'm not worth begging."

"You're worth anything to me, da'len." She pulled back and cupped my face in her hands. "You are my pride and joy, just as Lyna. What's a little pleading compared to making sure you live and continue to be the young man I am so proud of?"

"…Ashalle…"

"You'll be a wonderful Warden, Cleon. You'll do us all proud, just as you always have."

"I'll try, Ashalle. I'll try."

"I know." She hugged me again. "Come now. Let's say goodbye to Tamlen."

"Right."

She took my hand and tugged me to the center fire. The Clan was gathering now. Many people were crying. Not a surprise. Idiot though he was, Tamlen had been well loved. The da'len were looking incredibly confused, but that was to be expected. It had been a long, long time since our last funeral. The Dalish did not die easily, after all.

"Cleon, there you are," Hahren Paivel called, walking around the fire to my side. "Are you up for a song?" Singing was customary for our Rites. While Hahren Paivel would sing for Uthenara, family and friends would add their own little songs, to… to celebrate the life that was lost. How sad he looked. Then again, I wasn't surprised. Hahren Paivel had been around when many of us were just babes in arms. Yet, here he was, singing a dirge for one of them.

"I can do a short piece," I whispered. Ashalle squeezed my hand encouragingly. "Just a short one."

"Of course." He pulled me into a hug. I was _really_ startled by it. He'd never done that before. "You will do well in the outside world. You are a true Dalish, and are the pride of our Clan. If someone must leave to save the world from shadows, then you are the best choice."

…That… this was the first time he'd ever… "Ma serannas, Hahren." Ah, I was crying. "Ma serannas." Of course. Of course, the night before I left, I got the praise from the _one_ person I wanted it from. Typical. But, I couldn't help but be happy for it.

"Come then. Let's send Tamlen off properly."

* * *

By morning, everyone had heard. I was leaving. I wasn't sure if they knew the true reason or not. I didn't have a chance to ask.

"You're wearing your necklace, right?" Lyna asked as we walked to the edge of camp. I could already see the group gathered there. Everyone was there.

"Of course I'm wearing it," I retorted. The wooden beaded necklace was literally all I had of Father.

"Right… right, that was a really stupid question."

"It's okay. You're talking because you won't be able to in a bit."

"As always, you know me best." She grabbed me in a hug, kissed my cheek, and stepped to the side to allow another of the Clan to grasp my hands in silent farewell. Everyone did so. Ashalle, who gave me a small hunting knife to keep me safe. Master Ilen, who slipped some coins into my palm from his last trading excursion with the shem'len. Maren, who gifted me a small figurine carved from a halla horn. Fenarel, with a small pack of seeds to remind me of the forest. Variel, Junar, Vinell, Terath, Ineria, Radha, Chandan, Harshal… even Pol silently bid me farewell with tiny, mostly symbolic gifts.

"This is something I've been holding on for you," Hahren Paivel told me softly when I approached him. He pressed something wooden in my hand. Wait, no, it was a frame. A frame with… "I drew this a long time ago, to help ease the pain of your father's passing." My parents. A picture of my parents. I'd never seen them before. "I drew it and hid it away. I found it recently. It was supposed to be a birthday present, but… well, it seems more appropriate now." He smiled at me. "They look over you, but I bet it would be easier to see if you knew what they looked like."

"…Ma serranas," I whispered, worried that I'd start crying. It was getting difficult to hold everything. So many goodbyes…

And the next person was Merrill. She was silent as she handed me gloves. Good leather gloves, with tiny patterns of leaves and vines. I could sense the magic in it. She must've worked all night on it. I brushed a hand over her cheek without really thinking about it. She leaned into the touch and smiled. There was nothing more to be said. If I tried, I'd probably stay, and that would be…

"Cleon." Keeper Marethari's voice was soft, but commanding. She knew that I was wavering. "Here," she whispered when I turned to her. She pressed a bracelet into my hand. I recognized it instantly. "Take this."

"My father gave this to you," I protested. "It's important."

"He gave me many things. Some to help with my duties, and others to remind me of lessons. This bracelet… there was a time I thought of leaving the Clan, because I did not feel up to the duties given to me. He gave me it to remind me that I am loved, and I have a family who will always be there for me, no matter where I go. I ended up staying, but wore this to remember the lesson. And I give it to you, because you need the reminder more than I do." She smiled. "Go now, Cleon, and may the Dread Wolf never hear your steps. Be strong and brave. The Creators have chosen a new path for you for a reason. Find it."

"I'll try, Keeper." Of course, considering that said path was apparently leading away from everything I've ever cared about, I hoped the Creators didn't mind me being a little miffed. More than a little, actually.

Still, there was nothing to be done. It was what it was, and the choice was made. So, I bowed to the Keeper and walked away, up the hill to where the two shem'len were waiting for me. The armored one only acknowledged me with a nod and sad smile before leading the way to wherever we were going. The girl, though, waited until I was right next to her before moving, making an effort for our paces to match.

"Commander Duncan told me the reason why you are coming with us," she whispered after a moment. "I am a healer, so if you are in pain, please let me know."

"What happens if I don't?" I asked sourly.

"I will pout. Anders told me it is quite devastating." She smiled, completely ignoring my not-quite-cooperative mood. "Also, I will ambush you. Wynne taught me very well on how to deal with uncooperative patients. She also mentioned ways to slip sleeping potions without the patient knowing."

What? "You're… joking, right?"

"A Spirit Healer must take her duties very seriously." At this point, she was sounding like Lyna when it came to being a hunter. "I would not be happy about it, though. So, please, let me know?"

"I… fine. Fine."

"Thank you very much, Ser Mahariel!"

"Cleon. Call me Cleon."

"If that is your wish, Cleon. Please, call me Layla."

Oh, things were just going to be weird from now on, weren't they? Just… great. Fantastic. Wonderful. Creators, just… _why_?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right. Dalish origin done! Yes, I expanded this part… a lot. Might've actually went overboard on the drama and the like. ...Sorry... Well, I felt sad you couldn't do like proper goodbyes to anyone, so… and then it went and kept… okay, this part is why Dalish was split into two, as you can tell by length. Oh dear god, the length.  
> This is the last origin that will be told entirely from one POV, by the way. City Elf and Human Noble will be split into two parts, each one a different POV.
> 
> Next Chapter – uh… well, it's a traveling chapter. Layla's POV. Have fun? (I'm sorry. I'm adding these ones for more char interactions)


	7. Chapter 6) On the Road to Denerim

**Chapter 6) On the Road to Denerim**

_Layla POV_

* * *

_I would spend quite a bit of time reading while growing up. Sometimes, it was just to study, but other times, it was for fun. I would read of strange things. There were things called 'sheep' and 'carriages'._

_Sometimes, I wondered what it would be like to see those strange things I read of in the books. But then I remembered that doing so would mean leaving the Tower, which I did not want to do. So I contented myself with my imagination. It was more than enough for me._

* * *

"Cleon, what is that?"

"A sheep."

"Cleon, what is that?"

"A carriage."

"Cleon, what is that?"

"An orchard."

"Cleon, what is that?"

"Why do you keep asking me? _You're_ the shem!"

"Oh, but I lived in the tower for the past ten years. So, what is that?"

"A monkey's uncle."

"Do monkeys have uncles?"

"…You need to not believe everything someone tells you. That was a joke."

"Oh. I am sorry."

"For what?"

"I did not get the joke."

"…You're impossible."

"Considering that I am alive, I would argue that I am _quite_ possible."

"Not what I meant!" I winced at his shout and he softened near immediately with a grumble. "Don't pout. Please, don't pout."

"Why? Are they as devastating as Anders says?"

"I feel like I accidentally kicked a baby halla. No, seriously, stop pouting."

I endeavored to obey as we continued walking down the road behind Commander Duncan. After all, I _was_ trying my best to not annoy him as we traveled. Unfortunately, that was all I seemed to do. My questions wore on his nerves. My constant _tripping_ drove him mad! I wished desperately to know how exactly to talk to him. He was unlike anyone I had seen before, and he reacted like none of the mages or templars I had met.

…Okay, perhaps the constant questions were horribly annoying. But I was nervous and scared and I was trying to get some semblance of normality. I would ask many, _many_ questions back at the Tower. Learning was normal. Learning was more than normal, even. It was my life for ten years!

So, after a moment of silence, I went back to my questions. "Do all you Dalish have those accents?" I asked.

"What accents?" he asked back. "You're the one with the accent."

"I am not! It is everyone else that sounds strange."

"By my ear, both of you sound foreign," Commander Duncan interrupted with an amused smile.

"I was born in these lands," Cleon protested.

"But you live separately from the rest of Fereldan, taking on the accent of those around you."

"That… how would you know something like that?"

"I used to live on the streets, Cleon. You learned a lot about people there."

"I see." The look he gave me implied he did not, however. That was fine, though. I did not get it either. "So, Layla, where are _you_ from?"

"I was born in Kirkwall. It is in the Free Marches."

"Near Sundermount," he added. "I know it well. That is one of our sacred sites. Quite a distance, though."

"I was sent to the Circle Tower in Fereldan upon discovering my magic."

"Why? Were there too many and not enough?"

"I do not know. Why would that matter?"

"It is what the Dalish do. That's how Merrill joined the Sabrae, actually." His face softened when he mentioned the name. "There were no children with the gift of magic, and her old Clan had three, so she was sent to be Keeper Marethari's First."

"So, we are not so different, then."

"We are _completely_ different!" …I was failing to see how. "We honor our Keepers and look to them for guidance. Magic is not something to be feared, but respected, and we don't lock up our mages."

"The Circle is not as bad as you are claiming."

He had quite the sour look on his face now. "Your own people hunt you down like a rabid animal gone rampant for something you're born with. Those _templars_ of yours-"

"The templars protect mages too."

"How? By killing them?"

"I will not make a generalization like a child and state that all templars are evil just because there are those who delight in abusing their authority." I gave him my best glare. "There are some good templars."

He looked so incredulous. "You, by the way, have the ferocity of a kitten with that glare." Oh, but it was my best glare! "Give me an example, then. I'll wait however long-"

"There is no need, for I can name one instantly," I retorted. "His name was Ser Maurevar Carver, stationed at the Gallows in Kirkwall. He saved me when my father attempted to kill me for being another mage child, and guarded me until I left for Fereldan." He looked stunned. "What is it? Are you so surprised I could think of one so quick-"

"Your _father_ tried to kill you?" He was startled by that? "Your own father?"

"Yes, that is something many mages face."

"…Your people are ridiculous," he hissed after a moment. "Parents killing children out of fear of what they were born with… that's just madness."

"Is there not a case of that happening among the Dalish?"

"No." That was a quick reply. "We honor our clans and families. We are all each other have." He also just left them behind…

It was time for a slight change in subject, then. "You mentioned magic was respected by your people?"

"Huh? Ah, yes." He looked startled by the question. "We do."

"Do not the non-mages grow jealous or fearful?"

"What need is there for it? The Keepers practice magic to help and defend the Clan, learn the old histories, and mediate judgments for the people. But they cannot craft a bow or hunt in the teachings of Andruil." He smiled softly. "Everyone has their place and everyone has their duties. Everyone is unique and, thus, everyone has a unique job only they can do. That is what Hahren Paivel taught us da'len."

Was that true? "I rather like that." It made me hopeful for my own dream of a world of peace between mages and non-mages. After all, if it could work in a smaller scare, then it should not be difficult to make it work on a larger one. "Though, I cannot say I like where you all lived all that much."

"What's wrong with the forest?"

"I went from a city of chains to a tower in the middle of a lake. What do you _think_ is wrong?"

"You didn't even see the sylvans, though."

"What are sylvans?"

"Spirits trapped in trees. Causes them to walk. We had to be _very_ careful about how we frolicked about. They would get so jealous and angry at us."

"You are joking."

"Nope. Swear to the Creators, I'm not!"

"Oh, I _really_ hate that forest now! It is unnatural!"

"Nice to hear the two of you are getting along," Commander Duncan called back. "I had a bit of worries, but I see there was nothing to fear."

"For now, at least," Cleon muttered. "You've seen sylvans, right?"

"I've heard of them."

"I still do not believe either of you," I mumbled, right before I tripped, yet again. "Ack!"

Cleon caught me, like he had the past two thousand times. "So, Duncan, you mentioned growing up on the streets?" he asked. I nearly gasped at how rude he was being.

Thankfully, Commander Duncan did not seem to mind. "Yes, my parents died when I was small," he explained. "So I was a street rat. Thief, and quite the good one, if I do say so myself. I'm Fereldan by birth, though."

"W-where were you born, exactly?" I asked hesitantly. I did not realize he did not mind questions. I would have thought for certain he would not answer any!

"Highever." He stopped in the road and pointed into the distance. "It's far to the north. We'll visit it after Denerim. It's a lovely place. My mother didn't mind living there at all, though it was far from her native Rivain."

"So, how does a thief from this Highever place become a Warden?" Cleon asked.

"Well, it's simple enough," he replied. "I attempted to steal from one. I won't bore you with the long chain of events that followed, though." So, he stole from the Wardens and they later made him Commander? The Wardens were very strange indeed. "Now then, if you look up at the horizon, you'll find our destination in the distance."

I looked up and hunted, but it still took a bit to find the hazy city. It certainly looked quite lovely from here, though. "How much longer?" I whispered.

"Another day or two at most. We'll be resting in an inn tonight."

"Why an inn?" Cleon grumbled. "What's wrong with camping?"

"It is uncomfortable," I mumbled. "The ground is hard and moist. The bugs get _everywhere_. The wind is cold and blustering."

"That's why you make a shelter."

"I do not know how." Commander Duncan never even tried during the times we had camped on the way to the forest. Then again, if he spent his childhood on the streets, then perhaps he was used to these things.

"I'll teach you, next time we camp."

"Then, in return, I shall teach you how to stay in an inn. It is quite complicated, or so I have read."

"Oh, joy of joys. I'm _so_ looking forward to it."

"I am too!" He gave me a look. "Oh, you were joking." Oh, how embarrassing. "Um… Cleon, what is that?"

"Oh, not again!"

* * *

The inn was noisy when we entered. I noticed some of the men staring at me for some reason and stepped closer to Cleon. I did not like this place at all.

"You two look at the board here and pick out something to eat," Commander Duncan ordered. "I'll see about getting us some rooms."

"Yes, sir," I mumbled as he walked away. Oh, I wanted out of here so badly.

"Still enjoying the thought of an inn?" Cleon teased as we carefully made our way towards the large board with writing on it. I hoped it was all food. I did not recognize many of the dishes at all.

"I enjoy the thought of a real bed," I replied dignifiedly. "I do not enjoy the strange stares."

"Strange…?" He looked around, frowned, and pulled me in front of him. "Stay near me."

"Well, of course, I am. Why would you insist?"

"I don't trust shem'len."

"What is a 'shem'len' exactly?"

"It is our word for human."

"I am human."

"Not totally convinced on that." Huh? "You make too much sense."

"Pardon?"

"What is a shepherd's pie?" He pointed at the menu. "Please tell me it is not made of shepherds."

"What? No, of course it is not! That would be cannibalism!"

"For all I know, or care…"

"You are such a difficult person."

"Yeah, yeah. So, what is it?"

"I do not know. I assume some sort of food. Why would it be named that?"

"How should I know?"

"It's named that because it's something that could be made, and eaten, by poorer people, such as shepherds," Commander Duncan answered, suddenly appearing next to us. "Or so I was always told. It can be quite good."

"Perhaps we should try some then, Cleon?" I suggested. "I never had it before."

"Maybe," Cleon muttered. "What else is there here?"

"Oh, I do not know. I would assume food or drinks."

"Perhaps I had better order for you," Commander Duncan chuckled. "I forgot neither of you would know the items here."

"Do you already have our rooms?" Cleon asked. "I figured it would take longer, considering how crowded the place is."

"Well, not everyone eating here is _staying_ , Cleon. Some people are just here for the food or entertainment." What sort of entertainment? After all, there were no stories or… oh, wait, perhaps he meant… oh, my face was going so red. I guess some places were like the Tower after all. "Also, we're Wardens."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means we're respected and feared. I arranged for you and Layla to share a room. I hope you don't mind."

"I do not," I chimed in. "Apprentices shared many rooms."

"Not the first time I've shared with a girl," Cleon added. "Many of us slept in the same room as da'len, for warmth and security. And I have a twin sister."

"Good. I'd feel more comfortable if the two of you could protect each other," Commander Duncan replied. "Now then, let's get to that food, shall we? Oh, and Layla?"

"Yes, sir?" I answered.

"If someone bothers you, tell them you're a Warden mage. That'll have them leave you alone quickly."

"If you say so, sir." That was a strange thing to advise. It was not like I could turn anyone into toads or anything! Shapeshifting was not a possible magic, after all!

"Let's just get this over with," Cleon sighed mournfully. "I miss the forest already." Well, I was quite happy to be out of it. Tomorrow, though, we would see a city, a real city! I had not seen one with my own eyes since leaving Kirkwall! It was sure to be quite a lovely and fair place, yes?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Character interactions. Duncan's backstory. Duncan being the more personable person that Alistair implies. Not a lot, sorry?
> 
> Next chapter – Tabris Origin! With his POV. …It'll probably be another long one. I'm sorry in advance.


	8. Chapter 7) Origin of Aiden Tabris

**Chapter 7) Origin of the Silent Force, Hero of the Downtrodden – Wedding**

_Aiden Tabris POV_

* * *

" _This is the vhenadahl, the tree of the people. So long as it lives, so too shall we." The great tree in the Alienage stands tall, healthy, and beautiful in the slums where we city elves live. The poorest of the poor, the unwanted and unwelcomed who desperately scramble for what the humans discard. But let it never be said we're not happy. We have shelter, for one thing, and we are never left alone. There are some humans who can't say the same._

_Some of the elders claim we've fallen, but I'm not so certain on that, really. If we have, though, it isn't all the fault of humans. It's partly ours. After all, we let them walk all over us. We let them beat us. We never take a stand. And we never will, because we remember the devastation that happened when humans overran our ancestors. Submissions is preferable to that, or so the majority thinks. Anything to prevent the slaughters again. So, I'll never voice this opinion of mine. For the sake of my family, and the Alienage I call home, I won't._

_My greatest dream is for someone, anyone really, to recognize us elves. We're a free people, but treated more harshly than slaves sometimes. To act out on free will leads others to label us as troublemakers and look on us in fear. So, I swallow my dream, my pride, my strength to keep the rest content. I just pray I check my temper for the rest of my life, so that I don't force humans to take an alternate approach towards us. Violence begets violence, as Valendrian says, and the streets and earth are already crimson enough with the blood of elves._

* * *

The crates were even heavier today than usual, but that was to be expected. These weren't filled with silks and the like, but weapons for the soldiers heading south. Some of my fellow workers had given up with moving them, because the weight was 'outside their ability to lift'. Really, they were just being lazy, but I wasn't going to say a word to them. No, let them rant about the oppressing humans. I'd just do the work and try not to bring the wrath down on all of us. As always.

"Don't you agree?" one of them called suddenly. It took a second to realize he was actually talking to me. I normally kept apart from them. "Your mom was killed by shem, right? Two years ago?"

"Yes, but it was a human who saved her when she was held in the prisons of the Arl. I'm sure you heard about that prison break three years ago," I answered coolly, concentrating on my work. "It is pointless to think all of them the same. No two elves are the same, after all. Why should it be that way for humans?"

The speaker sneered and returned to his ranting with his friends. I suppressed a sigh and continued on moving the crates. It was always like this. I was quiet. I was calm. I didn't hate all humans, only some. Valendrian was proud of me for it, but a lot of the other elves thought I was, at best, strange for it.

"Aiden!" I jerked my head up as Bann Rodolf's voice echoed through the hall. It was rare the lord of the house came down here. Yet there he was, right in the doorway.

"Yes, milord?" I replied, setting down the crate I just picked up.

"Ah, there you are." He smiled warmly when he saw me. Bann Rodolf had employed my father for many, _many_ years and, after Father died, had hired me on the spot when I came looking for work. I was immensely grateful to him for that. "Your cousin Shianni is here."

"Is that so, milord?" What would Shianni be doing here?

"She mentioned you had to return to the Alienage at once, so I'm giving you the rest of the day off. Oh, and your pay early." He tossed me a coin purse. "I'm sure the rest of them can do your job, for once." Of course he knew I overworked. I could tell because he always paid me more than my contract said. "Go on! You're only young once!"

"As you will, milord." I bowed to him before racing for the servants' entrance, where Shianni should be waiting.

As expected, she was right there, bouncing around with a giant smile. I didn't recognize the blond elf she was gossiping with, though. Had a new family moved in? "Oh, Aiden!" Shianni called when she saw me, waving happily. "Over here! Your fiancé is here!" …Wait, what? No, Nessiara wasn't due for another few months. "Oh, stop standing there like an idiot. She came early _just_ to meet you!"

"A trade caravan was heading this way," the new elf explained. So, this was Nessiara? "It seemed like a good chance to travel in safety. Lady Elspeth arranged it for me, when Hahren Sarethia mentioned it during one of her visits with Teyrna Eleanor."

"It's good to meet you, Nessiara," I finally replied, getting over my startlement as I tried to think of everything I knew about her. It wasn't much, truth be told. Father's will had left money for a matchmaker, so all I knew came from that one source. Beautiful, from Highever, and a veritable genius with crafts. And I was to marry her. Oh well, it wasn't like my parents had known each other before they married either, and they'd been incredibly happy together. The physician said that Father had died from heartbreak. "Did you have a good trip?"

"And you, Aiden." She smiled shyly. "It was fine. Hard to leave my home, but the matchmaker spoke so highly of you that I was quite excited."

"That's why I brought her with me!" Shianni laughed, grabbing both our arms. "Come on! Party time!"

"You're just looking for an excuse to drink," I retorted as I let her drag me off. I smiled wryly at Nessiara. "And yes, she's like this a _lot_." Nessiara just giggled in reply. At least she took things well.

"Who needs an excuse to drink?" One of these days, I would have to go to the Chantry and ask for their assistance for Shianni's habit. She'd taken it up after Mother died and I was certain it was starting to become a problem. "Oh, this is going to be a _great_ day! Nothing can go wrong!"

…Why did I have a sudden bad feeling? Oh, it was probably nothing. Just nerves.

* * *

"Aiden, there you are!" …Not two steps into the Alienage, which was going all out with the festivities, and I was accosted by one of my neighbors. "We can't find Soris anywhere." He sighed heavily. "His bride is here, nervous as a mouse in front of a cat, and he's not here!"

"Oh, poor Valora," Nessiara murmured as I let my neighbor rant a bit more. "We traveled down together, and she was so shaky from nerves."

"Ah, don't worry," Shianni reassured. "Aiden _always_ can find him or me."

"That's because you two have predictable hiding places," I pointed out as the ranting stopped. "Have you checked the stables?" My neighbor nodded. "Okay, that was place one. Place two…" I walked past him to the vhenadhal, growing proudly in the center of the Alienage. Now, technically, we weren't supposed to climb it, but that never stopped anyone. And Soris adored heights.

"You're not going to climb it, are you?!" someone yelped. It sounded like Shayda. She must've closed down the stand early to be here for the wedding. "You know better, Aiden!" Definitely her. She was the only one to scold me like that.

"But does Soris?" I asked in answer before jumping and swinging up into the branches. Higher and higher I climbed, and it was near the top that I found my quarry. "Boo."

"WHA!" I had to surge forward and catch Soris before he fell. He gave me a pitiful look as I steadied him. "Don't _do_ that, cousin," he begged. "I think you just took ten years off my life!"

"Well, good news. Everyone in the Alienage now knows you're here," I pointed out, sitting next to him. "Your bride was particularly nervous. For shame, Soris."

"What are you doing back here so early anyway?" Of course he'd change the subject.

"My bride is here too. We're getting married together."

"Well, I'd _hope_ you two would get married together." I mimed a blow at him and he laughed. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"Of course not. Now, are you hiding out here or did you forget how to get down?"

"…Both?"

"Well, walk where I walk."

We were almost down when he slipped and fell to the ground. So close. Unfortunately for him, Shianni was right there, and she burst out in laughter. "You're such a klutz, Soris!" she managed through the laughing. "You shouldn't hide up there if you can't get down."

Throwing my hands up at their antics, I turned to address Nessiara, who was watching them with confusion, but my attention was caught by Nessa and her family. Or, more importantly, by their _packing_. "What's going on?" I asked them softly.

"Moving," Nessa's father answered tersely. Nessa's mother rolled her eyes at her husband's gruffness, and Nessa, half-hiding, sighed. "Building is being closed, so we're heading down to Ostagar."

"Where the soldiers are gathering?"

"And the laborers. Workers are needed to keep an army running smoothly."

"So, all of you head south?" Could Nessa even work in an army? Her chief skill was _babysitting_. Surely there weren't children running around down there, right?

"Yep." And of course he refused to consider going south on his own. His wife might've accepted it, but his _daughter_ …

Nessa glanced at me pleadingly as her parents finished the last of the packing and I knew why. She never had a desire to step foot outside the Alienage, and there was no telling what some stressed soldiers might do to a pretty elf girl who couldn't fight back. "Sir, why not let Nessa stay here?" I suggested calmly. "Shianni will need someone to watch out for her, since Soris is living with Valora." Or will be. "And before you talk about providing… well, sir, I don't see how adding another to who I take care of will make much of a difference. Especially now that Soris has his job at the stables now."

"But your wife-"

"Is a seamstress and jewelry maker, which are always in demand." Particularly around a Landsmeet. "I'm serious, sir. Nessa will be just fine here."

He was silent for a moment. "And Shianni won't mind?"

"It's Shianni." Shianni didn't mind _anything_ that didn't hurt her family.

"You can come back when you make enough money," Nessa added as her father still hesitated. "Please, Father?"

"You know my protests about this all centered on dragging Nessa around," her mother chimed in. "Nessa will be better off here, and we'll have a home to come back to. Come now. It's a good choice."

"Oh, all right," he sighed heavily. "All right, Nessa. You can stay." He gave me a stern look. "I expect her to be kept safe until our return, Aiden."

"You have my word," I replied instantly. "I'll protect her, just as I would Shianni and-"

"I heard my name," Shianni interrupted right then. "What's up?"

"Nessa is staying with you," I told her without missing a beat.

Her reply was just as quick. "Really? Cool! Come on, Nessa, we're checking on dresses!" She took Nessa by the arm and started dragging her off. "Come on! Oh, and Aiden, get changed! We're starting soon!"

"I'd better obey," I laughed, bowing to Nessa's parents. "I wish you well. Until we meet again."

"And you," Nessa's mother replied as her husband shook his head in defeat. "Now, off with you. You've a wedding!"

"Yes, ma'am." I waved them goodbye and started for my house. I knew better than to hunt for anyone. Shianni would be cross if I didn't obey her with promptness and-

"Aiden?" a small voice asked as I felt a tug on my leg. I looked down to see it was Amethyne. "Aiden, do you know when my mother is coming back from Highever?"

"As soon as Lady Landra does," I reassured, ruffling her hair. Okay, Shianni could _not_ get mad at me reassuring Amethyne. We all-but-adopted her as a cousin after all. "I know Iona misses you too."

"You sure?"

"Of course." Iona frequently described her daughter as the light of her life, after all. "She'll be back before you know it."

"Okay." She smiled softly. "Hey, after the wedding, can you tell me the story of the elf king again?"

"I might tell you one similar." Mostly because I couldn't keep track of all the stories I made up. I'd spun a _lot_ over the years to give the children pride in being elves. "But for now, I've got to follow Shianni's orders and wash up."

"Right!" She laughed. "I'm the flower girl! Shianni said so!"

"Then go check in with Nessiara and Valora. Shianni might forget."

"Okay!" She skipped off, singing a song her mother taught her.

No signs of anything bad today. Maybe it really was just my imagination.

* * *

I'd just finished changing when noise at the gate caught my attention. It sounded like arguing. Oh, what was going on now?

Sighing, I went to the gates and was startled by the group of well-dressed humans loitering and leering about. And their leader… oh, yes, I knew who he was. Lord Vaughan, son of Denerim's Arl, and bane to all women. Literally. The poor blacksmith's daughter… raped and killed before being thrown away like trash. The fact that he was here in the Alienage spoke ill of the day. Guess my instincts were still sharp. Joy.

"Milord, may I ask what brings you here?" I asked as I approached. I made myself keep polite. No doubt they were here to cause trouble, probably to steal an elf to rape later, but it would be _very bad_ to accuse them of such.

"What's this? One of the grooms come to welcome me personally?" Lord Vaughan laughed, walking towards me. "Your fellow tried earlier, but he got scared." I glanced to see Soris standing in front of Valora and Nessiara. Oh, yes, he'd been scared, but not for himself. He'd been scared for the two elves who had no idea just what sort of human had waltzed into the Alienage. "What about you?"

"I would like to talk about why you are here, milord," I repeated. One of Lord Vaughan's friends just laughed. "I was under the impression your father left many things for you to do in his absence." And perhaps reminding him that his father was only a letter away would keep Lord Vaughan from doing anything _public_. His father was a kind, if harsh, man.

"And just _where_ would a knife-ear hear something like that?"

"I work for one of the local Banns." My grip on my temper slipped and the next words just left my mouth without me thinking about them. "You are not well liked, milord."

"And who are you to state that?" he snapped, grabbing my collar. He tried to pick me up and shake me, but I was too heavy. Years of training, and laboring, had made me hard to be offset by pure strength. "I'll have you gutted you little-!" And then he let go, stumbling off to the side and holding his head. Right behind him was Shianni, glaring murderously as she kept a good grip on the bottle in her hand.

She… she _hit_ him over the head with a bottle? Really? Oh, Shianni, you were going to get into so much trouble for that!

"That's the last straw, knife-ear whore!" one of Lord Vaughan's friends snapped, making a grab for Shianni. She ducked behind me. "This is going to go badly for you, you little-!"

"Is everything all right here?" And suddenly there was a new voice. I'd never seen this human before, actually. Everything from her hair to her speech to her clothes spoke of sheltered high class, though her relaxed posture reflected someone who didn't focus on such things. She had a kind smile, though, and even kinder eyes. "It looks quite exciting here," she continued, showing some naivety as well.

"And you are?" Lord Vaughn grumbled as he steadied himself. Annoyed as he was, he ignored Shianni to focus on the newcomer's breasts. His friends did too. Damn them.

"I am Layla Amell, a mage of the Circle." And what was a mage doing here?

"An apostate?"

"Actually, the two of us are Wardens," another answered, stepping up to be in front of Mistress Layla. Protecting her? He certainly seemed more like a protector, at least. An elf with strange markings on his face, an accent I'd never heard before, and armor not like what I'd seen in the marketplace. He held himself tall, proud even, and he looked like he knew very well how to use the daggers at his waist. I'd _never_ seen an elf like this before. "Cleon Mahariel of the Dalish Clan Sabrae, shem." Dalish? "Our Commander is near, paying his respects to the Hahren."

"I… see," Lord Vaughan mumbled, paling considerably. Wardens. I'd heard of them, somewhat. I only really knew they were a respected order of warriors, and King Cailan and the Couslands _adored_ them. "Come on, we're leaving, boys!"

Well, I wouldn't say they ran, but they certain didn't linger, with Mistress Layla smiling sadly and Cleon glaring at their backs. "I am sorry if we interrupted something," Mistress Layla murmured. She stepped closer to Cleon as the others eyed her suspiciously. Not too surprised, though it annoyed me. Just because Neria accidentally caused a roof to cave in did _not_ mean that all mages needed to be feared. I'd like to see what they did if locked in a closet by bullying children and… and I needed to calm down very quickly. It wouldn't do to lose my temper in front of strangers or humans.

"You did not, mistress," I replied to her, keeping my head down. Some humans didn't like elves making eye contact, and she was actually a bit shorter than me. Not the norm, that. "I thank you, on behalf of all of us, for helping to resolve that."

"Oh, well, I am glad." Her smile warmed as she focused on me. "Would it be rude to ask your name?"

"Aiden Tabris, mistress."

"So, you're one of the grooms today, then?" Cleon commented. His eyes turned sad then, and Mistress Layla gently touched his arm. "Hahren Valendrian mentioned you."

"I am," I answered, trying to read him. "I just met her today, though."

"Strange custom, that. Of course, Pol mentioned something similar."

"Pol?" That was the name of one Soris's friend's brothers.

"Yeah, he joined my Clan shortly before I left."

"Then I can give his brother good news. He's been fretting since he arrived two days ago."

"I'll do that, if you don't mind, actually. You… should spend some time with your Promised. You never know what might happen." Ah, there we go. Something must've happened recently and now he couldn't marry his own… assuming 'Promised' meant fiancé here. Was that why he joined the Wardens?

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy your time in the Alienage."

"It is certainly a… learning experience," Mistress Layla murmured then, tactfully. Must've not been expecting the squalor. "I wish you happy days, Aiden."

"And you, mistress," I replied. The two both nodded at me as they wandered away, closer to the tree. Probably to study it. It was the most impressive thing in the Alienage after all.

"E-everyone okay?" Soris asked shakily. I turned my attention back to the group and made a mental note on everyone. Stunned, worried, but ultimately fine. Good. That was enough of a shake. Likely, there were going to be some consequences later, much later, but we could figure out how to hide.

"Just some bruises and anger," Shianni muttered, sighing heavily. "Ugh, I messed up, huh? I just couldn't stand the thought of him trying to throw you around."

"It'll be fine," I reassured. "Think a little more next time, though?"

"I'll try."

"Besides, he won't tell anyone that an _elf girl_ got the better of him," Soris quickly added, coming to stand with us as the crowd slowly dispersed.

"Probably," Shianni agreed reluctantly. "Nice job acting pathetic to get his attention off the brides."

"That… wasn't really acting."

"Hush. You're supposed to let me think well of you."

" _Are_ you two okay?" I asked as I noticed Nessiara lingering with another elf. Since I didn't know her, I guessed she was Valora. "Sorry you had to see that. He must have started drinking early." Not likely, but there was no reason to scare them.

"Just a bit shaken," Valora squeaked, smiling shakily. "What an _awful_ man."

"You aren't hurt, are you?" Nessiara asked me. "I saw him grab you."

"Just fine," I reassured. "Promise."

"Um… cousin?" Soris hissed. When he was sure he got my attention, he gestured discreetly to the vhenadhal, where a lone human wandered. Oh dear. "Think you can…?"

"Yes, I'll take care of that," I replied. "I'll see the rest of you at the wedding."

"We better," Nessiara retorted. "I'll hunt you down." ...Odd that I actually found that attractive. Today was really getting to me.

Waving goodby to the group, I made my way to the human. I could only assume he was the Warden Commander Cleon mentioned. He certainly looked dangerous. I definitely didn't want to get on his bad side. On the other hand, there were some in the Alienage who might let anger take over and, worse, they were the ones most likely to be drunk. So, I approached him slowly, carefully, making sure he knew I was going to talk to _him_. He caught on instantly, remaining where he was until I was near. "Greetings, young one," he murmured. "Congratulations on the day."

"I thank you, ser," I whispered back. "Do you have business here?"

"I do, but I believe I found what I was seeking already."

"May I ask what it was?"

"You may, but I will not answer."

Of course not. "Then, seeing as you found it, I would assume you will be leaving soon?"

"I'm afraid that would be false. I've no intention on leaving just yet."

Right, leaving a dangerous, armed human in the middle of an Alienage with drunk elves and tempers. "I ask you, again, to leave."

"And I refuse, again." I hoped this was more due to his personality and less due to him being a human talking to an elf. He, at least, seemed to be having fun with this. "Now what?"

"Perhaps a compromise, then?"

"Not a bit of fear." Why did I get the feeling that he wasn't talking to me now? "Keeping such a calm head is admirable, especially in these dark times. Wouldn't you say so, Valendrian?"

"It is, though I rather like the ability to keep one's blade sheathed a bit better," Valendrian laughed, startling me. "Aiden, I'm glad to see you make the acquaintance of my old friend. This is Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens."

Friend? "I guessed," I replied slowly. "I met the two others."

"I hope they've been behaving," Master Duncan sighed, sounding a _lot_ like Father did when Shianni or Soris were up to something. "Layla was running around earlier all eager to help, and Cleon is prideful."

"I've not heard of anything, ser. I met them when they helped diffuse an argument."

"Last that _I_ heard, young Layla had healed a child's illness for free," Valendrian added. "Cleon has been helping the children with slingshots, though, and traps, so he might be indirectly responsible for pranks in the near future."

"I'd better find them before they decide it's a good idea to chop down something," Master Duncan sighed. "Maybe you can help distract them, Valendrian? Cleon seemed to look forward to speaking with you. I think it's because your title is similar to one in his Clan."

"I don't see a problem in that, my friend."

"My thanks." Master Duncan turned to smile at me. "It was good meeting you, Aiden."

"And you, Master Duncan," I replied, bowing automatically. "Until we meet again."

"Yes, until then." Despite the nonchalant tone he used, he gave Valendrian an amused look, almost as if some sort of joke had just been said. Valendrian merely smiled and shrugged in response, confusing me. …Never knew Valendrian could relax enough for inside jokes.

Deciding to not think of that and, instead, actually get to the platform where the wedding would take place, I walked off in that direction… only for someone to call my name. Again. "Hey, Aiden…" I looked down to see Candidus and smiled softly at him. He was reduced to begging now, ever since a bad accident at the shipyard crushed his legs. His human employers had just thrown him into an alley and didn't help him at all. "Think you can help me a bit?" he asked. "I want a good view of the wedding, but it's rather poor here."

"Yeah, sure," I agreed. "Just one sec." I looked around and hailed the first person I saw nearby. "Slim!"

"Yeah?" he replied. Slim was one of the strange elf-blooded who decided to stay in the Alienage instead of making a life for himself as a 'normal' human.

"Candidus needs a new seat."

"Oh, yeah, I'll help you get him up." He grinned and waved at Candidus who waved back. "Where too, old man?"

"Just a place where I can see the festivities," he answered. "I want to see."

"What about that spot right there?" Slim pointed to a small out of the way corner of the main square, where the buildings met together in a convenient little seat a good distance from the ground. "You can see everything from there, but no one will be able to jar you off."

"Looks good to me."

"Let me clear it off, then," I volunteered, rushing over to dust it off, just in case some metal shards or tree bark had clung to it. As I did so, Slim picked up Candidus. At my nod, the two of us helped get him balanced there. "You okay?"

"Just fine!" Candidus laughed, smiling broadly. "Thanks you two."

"No problem," we chorused before waving and walking away to leave him to get comfortable.

Slim sighed not long afterwards, though, so I had to ask, "Are you all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, fine," he replied after a moment. "Just fine."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, there _is_ nothing wrong. It's just…" He sighed heavily. "It's just that I've got so many ideas. So many potential jobs." Right, Slim 'worked' as an advisor tip-giver… person for the local thieves. "Now, if I could find someone with enough skill to _do_ them…"

"Just be careful, Slim," I cautioned.

"Oh, you know it." He grinned. "For now, though, there's a wedding to be drunk for!"

"I know." And, with luck, the worst of the day was _over_. If I never saw Lord Vaughan again, it would be too soon!

* * *

It didn't take long for the wedding stage to be set up. The late party ended up being Valendrian, likely because he'd talked so long with the three Wardens. I saw the three wave goodbye as they left for the gates, and was more than a little pleased to see the amount of respect they had on their faces. Valendrian deserved a _lot_ of respect for what he dealt with on a regular basis, and rarely did he get even a quarter of it.

"Sorry, sorry," Valendrian laughed as the crowded good-naturedly complained about the delays. "Revered Mother, if I may?"

"Of course," the Mother answered with a smile. Just as in all Alienages, the wedding was presided by the Chantry. Valendrian set up the time in advance, and she'd seem quite all right with the idea of marrying two couples. Almost as if she'd been expecting it. Well, maybe someone went to the Chantry and told her of the sudden change. "If I wasn't going to wait for your traditional speech, then I would've gone ahead and married them!"

"Wardens. They're always so _serious_." The smile he wore said otherwise. He'd _liked_ talking to them. "Now, then…" He clapped his hands for attention, and beamed at everyone. "Welcome, my friends, to this joyous occasion!" The crowd below cheered. I turned to smile at Nessiara as she clung to my arm. She smiled back, looking both nervous as excited. "Today, we celebrate not only these joinings, but also ourselves and our culture, our bonds of kin and kind." Soris and Valora were on the other side of the podium. They both looked nervous, but Soris, at least, didn't look like he was about to bolt. Good sign, that. "We are a free people, but that was not always the case." Shianni and the other bridesmaids were beaming in between us. Shianni was barely containing her excitement, bouncing on her feet. "Andraste, the Maker's Prophet, freed us long ago, and allowed us to rebuild our old lives." Amethyne and the other flower girls weren't hiding their excitement well either, swaying from side to side with giant grins. "As our community grows and thrives, remember that our strength lies in our commitment to tradition and to each other." The crowd was beaming too, all ready to see the ceremony over, so that they could party until dawn tomorrow. "Now, let us all show our respect, and gratitude, to the couples, and for the ceremony that shall bind them." It looked like there was a bit of commotion, though. Like someone was forcing their… way… through… oh, oh Maker, was that…? "Hmm? Aiden, is something wrong?"

"Trouble," I growled, as Lord Vaughan and his friends made their way up onto the platform, casually shoving elves aside like they were nothing. What was he doing _back_ here? And so soon? I would've thought at least a _week_ to prepare for his revenge! "Lots of trouble." More than lots. I could see others dressed as guardsmen plowing their way through, too. I had no idea if they were 'real' guardsmen or just some noble bastards who managed to steel the armor, but that didn't matter. The point was that

"Milord, what brings you here?" the Mother asked politely, stepping up before Lord Vaughan could get close to us. "This is most unexpected."

"Sorry to interrupt, Mother," Lord Vaughan laughed, faking cheer and politeness as he stepped around her. "Well, we noticed the Wardens weren't staying, so we thought to be polite and take their places in the audience!" …Basically, he only ran before because there were Wardens, and now they were gone, so he came back. Stupid. I should've suspected something like that! "And I'm throwing a party, but there's a lack of female companionship, so I thought-"

"Milord, this is a _wedding_!"

"Dress up your toys and play with them as you'd like, but let's not pretend they're actual people now, yes?" …Well, we'd get to see if the Grand Cleric would do something about _that_. Should be interesting. "Now, we're here for a _good_ time, boys, so grab a wench and take them home!" He turned and glared at Shianni, who glared back. "Oh, and make sure you get the bitch who bottled me, hmm?"

"You can't take them!" I was thankful the Mother kept protesting, even as Lord Vaughan's men started grabbing the girls and dragging them off. I made to go after them, but someone caught my shoulders and held me still. "You cannot!" She threw herself in front of the children as one stepped too close to them. "I _will_ report this!"

"One crazed Mother against a noble?" Lord Vaughan scoffed, grabbing Nessiara himself before walking off. His armed men filed in after him. "We'll see who is believed."

This was madness. He just waltzed right on in, insulted the Mother, kidnapped the girls, and was just going to _walk away_. Too far. This time, he went _too far_!

I grabbed the man holding me and flung him over my shoulder. He hit another human as he ran. I ignored them both to continue chasing after the group, chasing after the girls. I had to get them. I had to…!

"Argh!" I yelped as someone's knife dug into my shoulder. I twisted and punched him in the face, but when I turned back, I saw Lord Vaughan and his group had already gone passed the gates. Once they were out there, they were out of my hands. They were gone. Even if I could fight through all the others, they were…

"I am sorry!" There was a flash of light and suddenly parts of the streets were coated in ice. The guards Lord Vaughan had left behind slipped and slid, crashing into each other. As they fell, I caught sight of the one who'd done it. Mistress Layla. "I am so sorry," she continued apologizing, using her magic to baffle and confuse them. And as they tried to get their balance, Cleon appeared from the shadows and killed them. No hesitation whatsoever. Any that got too close to him or Layla were on the ground, without even enough time to yell in pain.

"What's going on here?!" Of course the guards would only appear _now_ , when it was too late to get them to help with the kidnapping. They looked angry too, likely because of the deaths of their own. "Well," the spokesperson snapped. "If you two think you can get away with killing-!"

"Actually, your guards attacked _them_." That was Master Duncan. He casually worked his way through the bodies, like he was far too used to death. "And they are Warden Recruits, good guardsman," he continued lightly. "Perhaps you should teach your men to not go along with a noble's plan. It might be unhealthy." The guards glared, but didn't move. "Go on and investigate things, like you're supposed to. Or _I_ will, directly to King Cailan." Well, that got the moving. But… well, in actuality, that was expected. Our king was a bit of an idiot, but a goodhearted one. If he was made aware of corruption and injustice, he _would_ see it dealt with, personally if need be, regardless of the potential political fallout, unlike his wife.

Still, that was small comfort as I looked around. Dead, wounded, and the _missing_. We'd been caught by surprised and, likely, nothing would ever be done about it. I was so _sick_ of this! So sick. Constantly we were harassed and only a handful of the… no, no, I had to stop thinking this way. I had to. Acting on anger just led to more hatred, and Mother had told me of good humans. _Very_ good humans and… and…

"Please, hold still." I jumped at the voice and whirled to see it was Mistress Layla, holding a glowing hand to my wounded shoulder. She mouthed something and the light flowed into the wound, knitting up the skin with barely a hint of a scar. "There we go," she whispered, smiling shakily at me as the light faded. "You should be just-" From my view, the rock flew out of nowhere to hit her in the face. She yelped and ducked, only to get hit by a second one. Then a third, then a fourth. Mud also hit her. What…?

"What are you doing?!" Cleon snapped, appearing from nowhere to deflect the fifth rock. Mistress Layla kept her head down, using her hands to shield her face.

"Stupid shem!" I finally turned then to see who had attacked her. It was my fellow elves. Angry and miserable, they were turning her into a scapegoat, because she was human. Just as humans did to elves when things went wrong with them. That was it. We always turned each other into scapegoats. "Stupid shem! You always ruin everything!"

"Leave her alone, you brats! She came here to try to hel-"

"D-does an-anyone n-need h-healing?" Mistress Layla whimpered. She glanced up, just looking at me. Blood and tears dripping down her face as she shook. "Does… does anyone need… need healing? Does anyone need h-help? Oh, Maker, why did no one help?"

"Layla, let's get you over here and clean that wound," Cleon whispered, making sure he was between her and my fellows. "Think of how worried they'll be if the healer is crying."

"I'm sorry," I murmured as she nodded. She was still crying, still bleeding, and still shaking. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." Cleon looked right at me as he spoke. "You're… not acting like a da'len." What was that word? "You're acting as an elder. Can you keep them off us?" Us? Why would they…? Because they would see him as 'traitor' by helping a human. Everything about human and elf relations was just so messed up.

"I'll find Valendrian," I promised. "There's a house not far from here, just around the corner, with a small black ribbon on it. That's my house. There should be a basic first aid kit in there."

"Ma serranas," he whispered, helping Mistress Layla limp off. Limp? Did a rock hit her leg? Or had she run to help so quickly that she'd hurt herself?

Shaking the questions out of my head, I hunted for Valendrian. He wasn't hard to find, thank the Maker. He was at the vhenadhal, conversing with Master Duncan. The two weren't making an effort to hide their conversation, though. I could hear it easily as I approached.

"Duncan, you can't really help here," Valendrian whispered. "I know you can't. Stop fretting over it. You're supposed to be the calm commander."

"If King Cailan or the Couslands were here, this would be easy," Master Duncan muttered. "But they aren't."

"Because they're preparing for the Blight, and you're in a bad enough position that you can't afford to offend anyone."

"Yes. How did you figure it out?"

"I talked to Cleon and Layla. Cleon is a good pick for Warden, but Layla? It's almost cruel to make her one, with her personality. If you're doing it anyway, Duncan, then I know it's because you need power and strength more than the need to be nice."

"Valendrian," I called softly. He turned to face me. "Some of the others threw rocks and mud at Mistress Layla, despite her offering healing. She and Cleon are tending to her wounds at my house, but…"

"…I'll calm them," he murmured. I could tell he was fighting the urge to sigh. "And then we will talk about what is to happen." As he walked away, Master Duncan glanced at me. There was a question there, in his eyes, as he held my gaze before turning away to help Valendrian. The question was easy to read. 'Will you submit or will you fight?'

I wondered that myself.

* * *

It took some time to calm everyone enough to talk and not attack the two humans who decided to stay and help, despite the hostilities, or the elf who decided to protect them, and us. Of course, the talking was more of rantings and grumblings as we all snacked on salt chews. The Revered Mother who'd been asked to officiate the weddings, who'd risked herself to protect the children, had left. She'd been made uncomfortable by the glares. I'd made sure to thank her before she left. She'd really appreciated it.

"Please, all of you _listen_!" Valendrian cried for what had to be the fifth time. Master Duncan stood by him, as a beacon of strength and intimidation. I had no idea where Cleon and Mistress Layla had gone. "There's nothing we can do at the moment." I swore I saw red every time that was said, even if it _was_ logical.

"He's right," Elva, a neighbor, added. I had to force myself to not grit my teeth. Elva and I had _never_ gotten along. She always went out of her way to insult me, and I always went out of my way to try not to rise to her bait. "Messing with them will just bring their wrath on all of us."

"So, we're just going to sit by and do _nothing_?" Alarith demanded pointedly. "I know better than you what happens when you don't fight back!" He would. He was a former slave of the Imperium who managed to escape. Lost his parents and brother on the way to Fereldan, though. "This place is _everything_ worth fighting for, so why aren't you?"

There was more arguing, but I didn't hear it. I just kept hearing Alarith's words and thinking of Master Duncan's silent question. Would I submit? Would I fight? Isn't this place worth fighting for? Aren't the people worth swallowing pride over? Back and forth, the questions bounced around in my head.

It wasn't until I was back at my house, pulling up the loose floorboard that I realized I gave myself the answer. I stared at what the floorboard hid. My greatsword. Just where I put it after Mother died. When I promised Father I'd never take it up again. Hopefully, though, Father would forgive me breaking that promise. After all, he broke his promise to stay with me when he died. And I kept mine longer. I kept mine for two years. He… he only kept his for _six months_.

The weapon stayed in my white-knuckled grip as I stepped out of the house and started for the gates. I knew the servants' way into the Arl's estate. I knew how to get in. Getting out might be more difficult with the girls, but I could-

"Cousin?" I jerked my head up at Soris's voice and saw him running to catch up. He ran awkwardly, but it didn't take long to figure out why. The bow and quiver unbalanced him.

"Soris, where did you get that crossbow?" I asked, not bothering to ask what he was doing here. Soris would get to that.

"That Warden Commander passed it my way." He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Supposedly, it was to help clean, but this… this is better quality than a guard would have." Not only that, but there was a strange bird carved into it. That symbol… it was _only_ used for Wardens. He'd given his _own_ crossbow. "So, let's go get the girls, right?"

"You're coming too?"

"…Y-yeah." He was shaking. "I mean; I'm _scared_ , but I'm more scared of what he'll do to them. I'd rather die trying to help them than sit around knowing what's going to happen. B-besides, you know I'm not a bad shot."

"With slingshots." I was the _only_ elf with any sort of training in the Alienage. Soris had never even been _near_ a real bow.

"Can't be much different." I gave him a stern look and he shrugged. "…At least, I'm going to tell myself that until we're all out of there, safe and sound. I'll throw up and pass out then. I p-promise to hold it off until then."

"Soris…"

"You might be able to do it alone, Aiden, but I _know_ I can help and I want to. Even if it's just one arrow."

"…Okay. Okay, we'll go together." I smiled at him, relaxing slightly. "Come on, cousin. Let's go be the heroes."

"And hope we get just as happy endings." He laughed nervously, before pointing. "Hey, what are they doing here?"

Confused, I turned and saw two people near the gate. Mistress Layla and Cleon. What _were_ they doing here? "Might I assist you?" I asked them, keeping my tone even.

"No, I am merely accompany Cleon as he walks to clear his head," Mistress Layla answered quickly. "That is all."

"I just so happen to choose the same way as you, as nonchalantly as possible," Cleon added with a vicious grin. "Complete coincidence really. Just like how it'll be a complete coincidence if any outside guards disappear or appear dazed and confused." What? "Basically, Duncan said we Wardens can't do anything 'officially' due to politics and the Wardens being on some shaky ground."

"However, there is nothing that says we cannot do anything unofficially." Mistress Layla's smile was still kind, despite the tear-red eyes, small bandage to her head, and the mud staining her dress. "I… find it hard to believe, what happened. It makes no sense to me. Elves are the same as humans, are they not? They just look a little different." So, elves were treated well in the Tower? Nice to know that.

"That'll take more time that we've got to explain." Cleon nodded at me. "We can't help once you're inside, but we can make sure you've a good escape outside. Duncan already knows, and approves without saying anything, so let's go."

"…Thank you…" I mumbled, touched they'd go out of their way to help. "Thank you, very, very much."

* * *

Mistress Layla and Cleon wished us luck as we entered the Estate. Soris was shaking as we walked, holding the crossbow like it was a lifeline. Me? I felt strangely calm, despite all the fury I had building up. Despite all the bodies I left in my wake. Despite all the blood I slung up onto the walls. Human guards, mabari dogs… everyone who got in my way I killed without thinking about it. I was calm. I was very, very calm. And I was furious. I was very, very furious.

This was why I avoided losing my temper. Things broke and could never be fixed.

In fact, the only thing that gave me pause was Nola's body. I had nearly tripped over her corpse as I slaughtered a guardsman who'd been hovering over it. I absently tried to find a pulse as I kneeled next to her. Still warm, but definitely dead. She'd been just sixteen years old.

"They actually killed her?" Soris whispered as he knelt beside me. He was shaking badly, so I gripped his shoulder reassuringly. "Why?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Maybe they just felt like it."

"Would they do that?"

"I doubt Lord Vaughan would be so distressed at one less toy if his men were in a killing mood."

"I suppose." He sighed. "I'm running low on arrows."

I glanced around and pointed at one of the corpses nearby. "Take his."

"Steal from a dead guy?"

"I think he's missing his life a lot more than he'd miss those arrows."

"…That's just sick, cousin."

"I know. But it's true."

"I… I suppose." He lurched to his feet and stumbled over to pick up the arrows. "What do we do with her body?"

I knew what I wanted, but… "Leave her for now."

"But…"

"We can carry her back once we got the girls. We can't fight with her."

"…Yeah, okay."

"We _will_ come back for her body." Who was I trying to reassure? Him or me?

"Okay, cousin."

As we left behind Nola's body, I went back into the calm yet unthinking rage. It was so much stronger now. Sixteen. She'd been just sixteen. She was going to be married within a few years. Her father had been hunting around for her already. I could still see her, laughing and gossiping with the other girls in the Alienage after a day's hard work. She'd wanted to work a stand in the market. She'd wanted to be a mother. She'd wanted just once to wear a nice necklace. She'd wanted to be Shianni's bridesmaid. She'd wanted… she'd wanted _so many things_ , really. She was supposed to get a lot of them. She'd been just sixteen. But then they killed her. They just killed her and dumped the body to the side like she was nothing. Like she hadn't been someone's daughter, friend, or love. Someone with hopes and dreams.

Thinking of that just made me angrier and the walls and floor of the Palace wept crimson from the bodies I left in my wake.

"Cousin, you sure you can keep calm for this?" Soris asked as we hit a door at the end of a one-way path. This was it. Had to be. If it wasn't, I was going to tear the place apart, likely.

"I am calm," I replied.

"You're berserking or something. It's scary."

"You can be calm and angry."

"Well, don't just go attacking, please. Lord Vaughan might just kill the girls."

"I know." So, instead of just breaking down the door like I had some of the others behind me, I just casually opened it and walked on through.

Inside, there were just three men. Three men and Shianni. The men were armed. They looked like they'd just put on their clothes or something. Lord Vaughan and two of his friends. They looked up and smirked as they saw me. "My, my," Lord Vaughan greeted with mock friendliness. "What do we… have… here?" His friendliness faded as he truly saw me. "You… you're covered in enough blood to fill a tub. What did you…?"

"A-Aiden," Shianni whimpered, reaching for me despite having her hands bound. Tears streamed down her face. There were signs of bruising. She was even bleeding, mostly from her mouth. What I noted most, though, was how… disheveled she looked. Just like… "Aiden, help…" I could put the pieces together. It was so easy. The smug looks on the humans, Shianni's condition, Lord Vaughn's _tastes_ … I knew what happened, what I'd been just too slow to prevent. Shianni had been raped. Likely multiple times. Beaten and raped. My cousin. My precious cousin that I adored, that I protected, that I provided for.

I was going to _slaughter them_!

"You, I'm talking to you!" Lord Vaughan snapped, bringing my attention solely on him. "You killed all the guards, didn't you?"

"Perhaps I did," I answered coldly. "I beg your pardon, _milord_."

"Yes, that… puts us in a situation." I saw him shake slightly, even as he tried to appear calm and collected. "You are obviously skilled. Too skilled, really, for an elf." Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Soris creeping slowly by the wall, edging for a door in the corner. Perhaps that was where the other girls were being kept. "We fight and perhaps you manage to win. But what would that give you?"

"There are many who would love to see you dead, milord." Just keep talking. Just keep calm. Let Soris confirm the girls were safe before…

"Perhaps. But that isn't my point." Soris was still moving. It didn't look like Lord Vaughan or his friends had caught on yet. "My point is that my death wouldn't be good news for your pigsty of a home. It will burn." Still moving. "However, you could turn and walk away, with forty soverigns added to your purse." He was at the door. "You take the money and run. No repercussions. Just freedom and money." Soris caught my eye and nodded, confirming the guess that the girls were in there. "What do you say?"

"I might agree to that, if you add one more thing," I replied evenly.

Well, didn't someone look relieved? "And what is that?"

I held the greatsword level with a certain part of his body. "I get to castrate you first."

And now he was just angry. "To the Void with you!"

"Sorry, milord, but I think you'll be seeing it first!" I swung, but he used a chair as a shield to ducked around and get his own sword. Longsword, with no dagger or shield. This would be interesting.

I ignored the others in the room to focus on Lord Vaughan. _He_ was the most trained, meaning that Soris was less likely to get a good hit on him, and _he_ was the reason this all happened. The other two, Soris could deal with. They would underestimate him. Me? Lord Vaughan wasn't underestimating me. No, not one bit. He kept his guard up and his feet light. I would move to strike and he'd either dodge or block the blow in advance. Neither of us really giving. Yells in the background. Yelps. Still, we kept up the stalemate. I had to be careful. If he got one good hit, I was gone. Oh, but if _I_ got one good hit in…!

He feinted to one side and surged forward. I nearly fell for the trick completely, only realizing halfway what was going on. I twisted and brought my arm up to keep his blade from hitting my chest. The sword bit into my arm, dragging up flesh and spewing up blood. But it did one more thing. "You are wide open, milord." I made sure a polite smile accompanied my words. "I am very sorry." I swung my sword back and up before slamming it down into his skull. It split instantly, cracking into pieces as the blade kept going through, all the way to his waist.

I jerked out the weapon and nearly slammed it into him again, but then I heard a whimper. I looked and saw it was Shianni. Soris was at the back corner, fiddling with a door. Everyone else in the room was dead. I knew he'd manage. "A-Aiden?" Shianni whispered, catching my attention again. "Aiden?"

"Yeah, it's me," I whispered back, dropping the sword and rushing to gather her in a hug. "It's okay. It's okay now, Shianni." Her wrists were still bound. I'd need to untie them. "It's over. They can't hurt you anymore."

"You promise?" She was trembling as she curled into my chest. "You _promise_?"

"Yes. There is no one left in the estate to hurt you. I killed them all."

"Like dogs?"

"Like monsters."

"Good." She started to sob. "Everything hurts."

"I know. I'm so sorry. But it'll be okay."

"Okay."

As she continued to shake and bawl, a hand gently touched my shoulder. I looked up to see it was Nessiara. She didn't look afraid, just sad and worried. "She volunteered to be first," she explained softly. I glanced around to see Soris helping the others girls out of the room. They, too, had been bound. "We heard the screams. Will she be okay?"

"With time, yes," I replied. "With time."

"I see." She smiled then. "Thank you, for coming to our rescue."

"Couldn't leave you all. Not like that."

"Still, thank you." She knelt down beside me, uncaring of the blood, and rubbed Shianni's back. "Please, let me help."

"Thank you."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, and we'll end it here! Ah, I love this origin (if we're looking at the origins unbiased, I think it's my favorite. But bias exist, so it's second to human noble [shut up, it was the first I played through and the first I beat the game with]). Anyway, meet Aiden, our warrior Berserker who wields a greatsword. At 21, he's actually going to be the oldest of the four Warden chars. Yes, I have Cyrion dead in this story. Sorry to those who like him. The main reason for this is because of how close Aiden is to Valendrian. Cyrion was never even mentioned in the first draft of this, so I opted to just… have him dead instead of awkwardly inserting him in. Oops. Anyway, for those who wonder why I picked warrior, it's because of the strength warriors have, to help contrast him with Cleon, who's more… speed and critical hits. Rogues.  
> Bann Rodolf is mentioned by Cyrion when you save him as a City-Elf Warden as his employer. Shayda is mentioned in the tabletop RPG for dragon age, I think. Sarethia is mentioned only in a codex entry, as the 'writer' of the Alienage Culture, but she's the hahren for the Highever Alienage. As for 'Lady Elspeth'… congrats, you all now know the name of the female Cousland, the one who isn't a Warden. For those wondering about Adaia being saved by a human, play Leliana's Song DLC. (For reference, I am taking the events of Leliana's song as 'more canon' than what is stated in Origins [some things make a lot more sense and a reason why she might lie to the Warden in Origins is very, very easy to come up with], and that it was about three years ago.) For those wondering about Alarith, I didn't make up the backstory. According to the wiki, he is, indeed, an escaped slave. Voiced by Gideon Emery, aka Fenris. Nearly died of laughter when I found that out.
> 
> Next Chapter – The rest of the City Elf Origin, but from Cleon's POV instead.


	9. Chapter 8) Conscription

**Chapter 8) Origin of the Silent Force – Conscription**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

" _Are you two all right?" I asked as I carefully approached the two elves. City elves, they were, and shaking like leaves. "I will stay my distance if it makes you feel better."_

" _P-please do," one replied, forcing herself to stand. Her companion remained on the ground where she was, checking her ripped clothes. "N-not that we aren't grateful for the help, of course! But-"_

" _It was scary. I'm scary. It's okay."_

" _Th-that and… ah… my brothers have told me h-horror st-stories. No offense meant, of course!"_

" _It's fine." I made sure to smile. "Are you okay?"_

" _N-no harm done, really." She smiled back shakily. "Scared. Maybe some bruises. You killed them before they did anything, though."_

" _I'm glad to hear that." The bandits deserved worse than I gave them. "Will you be returning to your home in the city?"_

" _Yes. Um… would you mind watching a bit longer, though? J-just until we get within sight?"_

" _Of course," I agreed. "No problem."_

" _Th-thank you so much!" Her smile brightened. "I'm… a bit confused as to why you helped us, though. I'd… heard the Dalish don't look kindly on us."_

" _From our perspective, you've lost your pride." She looked a little outraged, so I quickly added, "Whether you have or not is not my concern. You are still in need of help, regardless." Just because the City Elves had forgotten their histories didn't mean they weren't worthy of protecting._

" _Oh." She laughed softly and helped her companion up at last. "Thank you."_

" _Of course. I do what I can."_

* * *

"There is another one, Cleon," Layla whispered to me. "Whose turn is it?"

"Yours, I think," I answered, carefully peering down from our hiding place. "Lone guard. Shouldn't be hard."

"That is correct." She brought up her hands and whispered something under her breath before releasing a small little wisp that meandered down to the guard.

"What is this?!" he yelped as the wisp bumped against his face. "H-hey, g-get away!" I was _incredibly_ amused that he was terrified by a simple ball of light. "Wah!" And off he ran, away from the door Aiden and his cousin, Soris, had used to get inside the building. Layla had called it a 'palace', but I just saw a mess of stone and wood. The outside gardens were nice, if I _had_ to give a compliment, but too structured. Not enough trees, either. I missed the aravels.

"How was that?" Layla asked me with a small, small smile as the guard disappeared.

"Beautiful," I complimented with a laugh, before noting something. "Look, there's Aiden and Soris in the glass again."

"That is a window," she corrected, even as she scrambled to peek through. Just as last two times, the two didn't stay in sight for long. Just long enough to slaughter a few guards and keep on running. The blood dripped down the walls as the bodies thumped out of sight. "Oh, that is brutal."

"They deserve worse."

"If we deliver worse to them, though, how are we better?" I opened my mouth to reply, but then closed it again. It _was_ a fair point. I wasn't sure if I necessarily agreed to it, considering how all 'normal' shemlen (the ones not raised in a Tower and weren't Wardens, that is) seemed to act the same when it came to elves. "…I believe I shall gain a minor fear of blood, at this rate."

"Why?"

"Do not get me wrong. In the tower, blood was common. Templars would accidentally hurt each other in practice. Mages would get into fights. But no one _died_ unless there was a… very, very unfortunate accident or from simple old age. Blood was just something to associate with injuries." She shuddered. "I have seen much blood now, with death. I do not like it."

"Death is a part of life. It's natural."

"Murder is natural?"

"How do you think you got meat to eat?"

"I…" She was turning paler by the second. "Oh, I feel ill now."

"It's okay." I patted her on the shoulder before noticing something. "Ah, another guard. My turn."

"Be careful," she whispered as I jumped down. I waved off the warning as I hid in the shadows and crept up on the unsuspecting guard. I waited for the perfect moment and then struck, choking him until he went limp and letting go as soon as he did. He flopped and I checked for a pulse. Layla had made me _promise_ to not kill if I didn't have to, and I was doing my best to keep it.

Content in that he was still alive, I stood up and waved to Layla. "See, easy and-" I suddenly stilled as I realized something. I couldn't move my left hand. I stared at it. Tried to get it to move. But it wouldn't. Just hung there at the end of my wrist, like a dead weight.

"Cleon?" Layla called. She sounded worried. "You okay?"

"I…" Finally, my hand moved. Slow. Oddly. But _moving_ which is what I needed to know. "Fine. I thought he was still moving."

"Well, was he?"

"No, just my imagination." I set about dragging him to the side, paying attention to my hand. It felt off still. What was…?

"Oh, Cleon!" I jerked my head up and saw why she'd called me immediately. The door had opened at last and out came the elves. Aiden, covered in blood, was first out, carrying a red-haired elf with help from his blonde bride.

"Everyone out?" I asked him.

"No," he growled. "They killed one. For being too loud or something."

A flash of anger went through me, but I made it cool. Judging by the blood, and the brief glimpses I'd caught of the fight, I doubted there were any filthy shemlen inside to kill anyway. "Can you all climb?"

"Maybe." He glanced back at the others filing out. Only Soris had any blood on him out of that little sub-group. "Why?"

"Our hiding place is up there." Layla helpfully leaned out and waved. "Good place to get your breath."

"I can also heal any of your wounds," Layla called down.

"Good, Shianni needs a healer," Aiden sighed. "Soris, you head up first to help the girls."

"O-okay," Soris replied. He was shaking, but I could see how there were bolts missing from his quiver. He'd fought too. "Okay."

"If you need to be sick, there's a out of the way corner," I whispered to him as I passed.

"Hasn't quite clicked yet, but if so, I'll take it." He smiled shakily. "Okay, where do we climb?"

"It's right over here." I showed him the set of vines and metal Layla and I had used to climb up. "Take your time."

Despite my words, it actually wasn't long before everyone was hiding. Aiden immediately shoved Shianni towards Layla. I frowned when I noticed Shianni's flinch, but she soon relaxed as Layla babbled about nonsense and smiled warmly. As she worked, I glanced around at the others. Most seemed fine, but I caught sight of something Aiden was trying to hide.

"Your arm is bleeding," I noted to him softly. "Poor job hiding it."

"I'd rather Shianni be looked at more," he mumbled. "It's not bad."

"Sounds like me when Lyna or Ta…" I couldn't say his name. It choked me. Ah, Tamlen, I'm so sorry… "I've bandages. Give me your arm."

"Thanks."

"No problem." He did as I asked and I went about bandaging him. The only sounds for a while were just Layla's babbling, the girls murmuring, and Soris awkwardly reassuring everyone.

I was surprised when Aiden spoke up again. "Back at the Alienage, you killed humans," he began.

"Yes, I did," I agreed, focusing on getting the bandages just right. It was a mostly surface wound. Messy, but healable. He'd likely scar from it, though.

"You did it easily."

"Yeah?"

"How?"

"Dalish kill shemlen who venture too close to the Clans for comfort. It's how we protect ourselves, sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes, we let them go with a warning. Only for them to rally their fellows against us and force us to either kill more of them or move."

"I… see." He fell silent and I went back to focusing on the bandaging. My hand was fine now, it seemed. What had been that before, then? Had I twisted wrong somehow? Or… or was it a sign of the Taint in me growing stronger? Should I tell Duncan? Layla? Or should I hide it? …I'd probably keep quiet for now, truth be told. It could've been just a fluke, after all. I'd keep an eye on it, but otherwise…

As I finished bandaging Aiden's arm, I caught sight of Layla leaning forward to whisper something in Shianni's ear, too quiet for me to hear, and suddenly Shianni's whole face lit up in touched relief. "Thank you," she whispered to Layla. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

"It is no trouble," Layla dismissed with a smile. "You are clear for moving. Is there anyone else I should attend to?"

"No, Shianni was the only one truly hurt among us girls," Aiden's bride murmured. I believed her name was Nessiara. "Aiden? Soris?"

"We're both fine," Aiden dismissed, tugging his sleeve down to hide the bandage. I resisted the urge to role my eyes. "Does everyone have enough breath to run?" There were nods all around. "Okay. I'll be first down, if no one minds?" No protests. "Right then."

As they all began to climb down I turned my attention to Layla. "What was Shianni thanking you so quickly for?" I asked. "The healing?" She was silent for a minute. "Layla, you okay?"

"She was raped." Layla's words were soft. "There are some… physical signs that can show it. When I saw them, I used a spell to make sure she could not get pregnant from the… encounters." …Encounters? Plural? As in… Shemlen made me sick sometimes.

"How do you know a spell like that?" I tried to keep my tone light, joking.

"It is the one way the Circle is freer than the rest of the world." She laughed softly. Good. "Well, I am certain it depends on the Circle in question. In the Tower, most were sleeping with most, essentially. I never played those games, but, as a Spirit Healer, I was required to learn that spell, and, of course, the signs of assault."

"Required?"

"Rape and molestation are not uncommon in the Circles." She looked me right in the eye then. "I am not unfamiliar with what happens when one group of people is given total control of another group of people. What I do _not_ get…!" She covered her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. "What I do not get is why no one helped. What I do not get is why just being an elf means someone has power over you. I just do not understand it!"

I reached over to pull her into a hug. "Did you get help in the Circles?"

"Oh, I was never attacked like that. Knight-Commander Greagoir would have the head of any templar, and First Enchanter Irving would _make_ him listen to accusations." She leaned against my chest as she tried to calm down. "But the templars did learn to do such things in secret, because others would come to help the mage. If someone knows what is going on, someone _always_ helps."

"Sounds like mages know camaraderie better than most." Then again, they were literally trapped together. They almost had to. "You okay?"

"I am just horribly upset and confused. It is not as bad as when Jowan…" She trailed off. "No, I am sorry, but…"

"Let's go cover their backs," I suggested, ignoring the name. She, too, had things she couldn't speak of yet. "And get back to Duncan."

"Agreed."

* * *

When we got to the Alienage, Hahren Valendrian seized the group of city elves, fussing over them and asking for their health. He was… he was a very good hahren. Reminded me a lot of Hahren Paivel, though far less stern. It was easy to talk and confide in him, earlier when things were happy here.

Duncan waited for us nearby and beckoned us over to him. "How did your walk go?" he asked me with a small smile. "You missed the grand saving of the damsels in distress, I'm afraid."

"Such a shame," I retorted dryly. "But thanks for letting Layla come along. Kept me from doing something silly."

"We did some practicing as well," Layla chimed in. "I showed Cleon some ways a mage might distract a person and he showed me some physical ways to knock someone out in case of an ambush."

"I'm glad to see you sharing skills," Duncan laughed. "That will be important in the days to come." Right, because of the 'Blight'. …How would Layla stand _that_? "Regardless, there will be guards soon."

And, as if _waiting_ for someone to say that, they appeared. "Elder Valendrian!" one called, glaring at everything. He seemed to be in charge. "Elder Valendrian!"

"I am right here," Hahren Valendrian sighed, shoving the younger elves behind him. The group quickly forced Aiden and Soris down so that the guards wouldn't see the bloodstains. The Alienage was… more like the Clan than I would've thought. They guarded their own with everything they had. "What is it that you need?"

"You can't hide them!" Head Guard person sounded outraged. "You cannot! I will burn this Alienage if that's what needed to flush them out!" …Just like a shemlen to turn to fire. So many Clans had been chased away because the nearby shemlen had threatened to burn the forests where they stayed. "The Arl's son lies in a river of blood that spans the entire estate! The carrion birds are going to be sick from the number of bodies! Some of my _own guards_ are among the dead!" …He sounded most outraged by that last one. That was… strange. "Now, where are the criminals who-?!"

"I did it, ser," Aiden declared firmly before anyone could get one more word out. No fear. No hesitation. He stepped forward, out of the group that had tried to hide him and Soris, as if there was nothing to hide, no consequences to his actions. "Just me."

The Head Guard was silent for a moment. "I admire your courage to admit it, though I do not envy your fate," he whispered at last. "Guards!"

"Cleon, Layla, how well did he fight?" Duncan asked us quickly as the guards surrounded Aiden and his family protested.

"He only has one significant wound," Layla answered. Of _course_ she'd seen it. "I would imagine he is skilled, based on that."

"Saw him take down two guards with one swing through a window," I added. "He's unskilled, rough, but strong and talented, in my opinion."

"Good," Duncan replied. "Wish there was another way, but…" Another way to what? I wanted to ask that, but he'd already strode forward to address the guards directly. "Might I have a moment?"

"Oh, hello, Warden-Commander," the Head Guard greeted politely. "We have the situation under control and-"

"That was not a request, ser." Oh. Well, uh… That was authoritative. "Now, might I have a moment?"

"Commander Duncan is kind of scary right now," Layla whispered as the Head Guard nodded vigorously. "I knew he was strong, but…"

"First time we've seen him acting like he's in authority," I agreed. "Power can be scary."

"Yes, it can be."

"Thank you," Duncan replied to the Head Guard. "I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription. He is in _my_ custody as of this moment. You may take up the issue of his crimes with me at a later date." … _What_?

"Son of a tied down…!" the Head Guard growled. "Fine, but get him out of here."

"That is my intention, considering there is a Blight."

The guards grumbled as they stalked away. I just stared as I realized Duncan had _forced_ Aiden into coming with us. That… it made me ill.

"Duncan, did you have to…?" Hahren Valendrian began before shaking his head. "No, I know you. You did have to."

"I'm sorry, old friend," Duncan told Hahren Valendrian. "And I am sorry to you as well, Aiden." He turned his focus to the young city elf who seemed far too calm at being forced into a different path."But you will be leaving here with us. Grab what you need, say your goodbyes. Your life here is over."

"Very well, Master Duncan," Aiden replied politely. …Was he not the _least_ bit angry over what happened? "By your leave?"

"Yes, and take your time."

Layla went to Shianni again, likely to do another check up. Duncan stayed with Hahren Valendrian to talk. Me? I went after Aiden.

"Are you all right with this?" I asked him as I caught up. I was faster than him. "You were forced…"

"Master Duncan saved me from a fate far worse than death," he replied steadily. "At best, I would have been tortured before being killed. I knew that. So, I'm thankful he saved me." Well, yes, but… "I will miss the Alienage, and worry. I wish I could stay a bit longer, but that's impossible. Hiding me would make things worse."

"How are you so accepting?"

"…Anger leads to what happened inside the Estate."

"Great anger does. But what's wrong with a _little_ anger?"

"Everything." He gave me a look. "Anger leads to fear. Fear leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I refuse to take part."

"…" Okay, I could see where he was coming from. Sorta. But… "And hiding your strength?"

"…Strength leads to fear, too." He ducked his head. "Why are you asking me this?"

Because I thought he should be at least a _little_ miffed! Or was I just weird? "Just… checking."

"Very well, Cleon." He smiled slightly. "If I may?"

"Sorry to keep you."

He walked off and I leaned against one of the buildings of the Alienage, just not quite getting it. Why not be at least a _little_ angry? Why hide he was strong? Just… why?

* * *

After a while, Layla bounded up to my side and dragged me towards the gates to wait with her and Duncan. Hahren Valendrian had apparently left to grab something from his house to give Aiden, and Aiden's family had all raced to go say goodbye.

"I think they will all be just fine," Layla babbled as we walked. She kept a firm grip on my hand. She was probably still scared she'd be attacked for just being a shemlen, like before. Of course, if anyone tried, I'd probably punch them or something. Layla was kind and didn't deserve things like-

"Um… excuse me, miss?" Both of us stopped at the voice of a young girl. I vaguely recalled her from before. She'd been skipping around, proudly declaring herself the 'flower girl' for the… wedding that turned into a disaster. Well, at least she was smiling.

"Y-yes?" Layla replied. Her voice shook slightly, so I squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Here!" She handed Layla a few flowers. They were surprisingly bright and cheerful. "Thank you for helping us earlier, miss." Her smile was warm as Layla carefully took the small bouquet. "I'm sorry everyone tried to hurt you earlier. Elder Valendrian gave them all a _good_ scolding!"

"I… thank you." Layla smiled slightly and giggled. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome!" The girl laughed and curtseyed. "Safe travels. You'll keep an eye on Aiden, right?"

"Yes, I will."

"Okay!" She beamed and turned her attention to me. "Sorry, I don't have flowers for you, mister. The boys all said boys hate flowers."

"It's fine," I reassured. "The smile is enough."

"Then I'll make sure to keep smiling! You'll help Aiden too, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. Thank you both very, very much!" She laughed again and ran off, waving goodbye over her shoulder.

"That was sweet," Layla whispered as we watched her go.

"That da'len has _good_ manners," I agreed. "I can show you how to press the flowers later, to preserve them."

"You can do that?" She sounded surprised. "Most of the time, we mages just cast a spell that encases the flowers to keep them."

"Wouldn't that block the scent or something?"

"I would not know. Flowers did not grow naturally at the Tower."

"I hope I never go there. No offense, but I think I'd go mad."

"Well, I nearly went mad in your forest, so I believe we are even!" That got a laugh out of both of us as we approached the gates. To my surprise, Aiden was already there, talking to Hahren Valendrian. Duncan looked up and smiled slightly when he saw us two wander up.

"All well?" he asked as we came to his side. "I was worried about Layla going on her own."

"No, I found Cleon quickly," Layla reassured. "Also, this sweet girl gave me flowers!" She held them out, smiling. "They are quite pretty, are they not?"

"They are." Duncan looked _very_ relieved Layla hadn't been harassed. "And you, Cleon?"

"I'm fine," I replied, more automatic than anything. It was okay, though, because I _was_ feeling better.

Duncan gave me a searching look before replying, "Good."

"Valendrian, where did that knife come from?" I suddenly heard Aiden ask. I turned as saw Hahren Valendrian produce a very well-made knife. I frowned as I noted numerous similarities between it and the knives forged by our Dalish craftsmen. Was it… was it Elvish?

"This was your mother's," Hahren Valendrian stated as he handed the knife over. "She said it was passed down through her family and is called 'Fang of Fen'Harel'." _What_?

"Fang of who?" Aiden laughed. "Mother was always coming up with strange names."

"Fen'Harel, the dread wolf," I answered. Both of them jumped at my voice. Obviously, neither had expected an answer, especially not from the three eavesdroppers. "He is one of the Creators. Cunning and terrible. He is the reason why the Creators and the Forgotten Ones cannot walk among the People again. He is wary of dogs, though. That's a fun story." Merrill loved telling it, whenever we saw a dog in passing. "Your blade must come from the Dales." Just who _was_ his mother, then?

"Then I'd better take extra good care of it." He took the knife and slipped it into his pack. "Thank you, Valendrian."

"Take care, Aiden," Hahren Valendrian whispered. "Know that you will always have a home here."

"I will remember." With that he turned to face us. "I'm ready."

"Then we shall be off," Duncan murmured. No asking 'are you sure?' or anything, of course. There was no choice in this. "Until we meet again, Valendrian."

"I expect to see you soon, Duncan," Hahren Valendrian called. "With your recruits. I want another talk by the fire."

"I'll remember that!" He laughed, waving. Layla turned to curtsey and I bowed in respect to the Hahren who watched our departure.

Aiden didn't turn around. I wondered why, but decided against it. I doubted I'd get a satisfying answer anyway. "Where are we going?" he asked Duncan instead as we walked out of the gates into the 'market'.

"Highever," Duncan replied. Aiden looked startled, but Layla and I just exchanged a confused look. Neither of us knew the place. "Providing Cleon's health holds, that is." As Aiden frowned and Layla pouted, Duncan just glanced back with a knowing look.

Oh. Oh, he somehow knew of that paralysis. But I was fine now. I would continue to be fine. I wasn't going to die before getting to that Joining. I had a duty to live. For Merrill, for Lyna, for Ashalle, for the Clan. I _had_ to.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, with that, Aiden is officially on board! Fang is something you're _supposed_ to get after Unrest, but I moved it up here because it just fit better here.
> 
> Okay, put some foreshadowing here. This is the starting point of Cleon having trouble with the Taint, though, for plot reasons, it won't be _really_ bad until later. Never quite realized how both elf origins involve getting into the Wardens with basically no other options. Huh. That's fun.
> 
> Next Chapter – A traveling chapter with Layla


	10. Chapter 9) Tales and Travels

**Chapter 9) Tales and Travels**

_Layla POV_

* * *

" _Seriously, Layla, you should really just try something," Neria laughed as she brushed my hair. "It's fun, I promise."_

" _I would rather not," I insisted, trying to convince myself the flush on my face was from heat, not embarrassment. "I am perfectly content with not flirting, not kissing, and not doing… well, that!"_

" _Layla, you have got to be the only virgin our age!"_

" _That is fine by me. I will get ahead in my studies."_

" _Any further ahead and you'll likely get put through your Harrowing."_

" _Is that not what we strive for?"_

" _Yeah, but I'm nearly twenty and haven't gone yet. You can't upstage me!"_

" _Why not?"_

" _Oh, you!" She laughed, before switching from teasing me to simply singing. I loved it when she sang. She had the prettiest voice and it was just so soothing to listen. It was_ certainly _better than the topic she had been forcing!_

* * *

The road from Denerim to Highever was, apparently, a long one. At least, it felt like a long one, but perhaps it was because I was not tripping nearly as much. The roads were smoother, and Cleon kept a close eye on me, taking my arm whenever it seemed like I might fall. While I was grateful to not be flat on my face, I could not say I enjoyed the extensive exercise or sweating. There were also the _horrid_ sunburns I kept getting! I _hated_ the burns. They were an ugly pink and red color, hurt worse than a backlashing spell, and, perhaps the worst part of it all, I was the only one getting burned! Commander Duncan had bought be a special lotion to protect my skin, but it was sticky and made my skin crawl even more than the sweat.

Trying to distract myself from the misery that was the outside world, I kept glancing at Aiden, curious about our newest companion. He was certainly handsome. I could admit that. With skin the color of cinnamon, eyes the color of chocolate, and hair the color of caramel, he was almost like a walking treat! Treats… Oh, I was getting _so hungry_ , but Commander Duncan stated we would not stop for food until nightfall. I missed the Tower. Unless you were specifically told to fast, a mage could just wander into the dining hall or kitchens to pick up food. Mages and templars kept odd hours, after all. …Now I was thinking about food, in addition to being sweaty, dirty, sticky, and absolutely miserable. This was not good. I had to cheer myself up! …Oh, I knew just the thing!

With the breath I had left, I went about singing one of the songs Neria would sing back at the Tower. It was a song about a thief who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. It was a nice song, though I was not fond of the ending. The ending had the thief poisoned by his sister and dying, painfully, in the forest he so loved. I did not like sad endings much. Happy endings were much, much better.

"Mistress Layla, may I ask where you heard that song?" Aiden asked me softly when I finished. I suppressed a sigh at how formal he sounded. "It's an Alienage song."

"Neria taught me," I answered. "So, I suppose that would make sense. She is Alienage-born." He looked startled. "Is something wrong?"

He took a moment to reply. "Was… was her last name 'Surana', by chance?"

"Yes, it is. May I ask why?"

"A… Neria Surana is my cousin, Mistress."

"Really?" I laughed in delight. "Oh, what a coincidence that is!" I knew she was native to Fereldan, but to think she came from _Denerim_ , a place I would actually visit!

"I'll say," Cleon commented dryly. "Guess the country is smaller than we thought."

"Country would not matter, Cleon," I corrected. "Mages come from all over. My friend Anders is actually from the Anderfels."

"I… don't even know where that is."

"It's _far_ ," Aiden answered. "Very far. Across the continent."

"Please tell me that his name isn't his real one," Cleon sighed. "That would be horrible."

"No, it is a nickname," I reassured. "Neria was Fereldan, and Jowan… well, I do not know about him." Jowan… it still hurt to think of him. Why? Why had he…? "I am from Kirkwall."

"Across the sea?" Aiden asked.

"Yes, but I think there was bribery involved, truth be told."

"Bribery?"

"Yes, my family, the Amells, were apparently nobility there and-"

"You are a noble?" He gasped. What? What did I do? "F-forgive me, milady, for the incorrect title!" What?

"There is no need to refer to me by title." I looked to Cleon for help, but he just looked amused. "Truly, there is not!"

"As you say, Lady Layla." …'Lady Layla'… that was not… not a term, a phrase, I had heard in a long time. I last heard it from Ser Maurever, when he pulled my father off me. I did not like the title. I hated it. I _hated it_!

"Fine, be that way!" I snapped, whirling away from him and the still-amused Cleon.

"Layla!" I heard Cleon yelp. "Hey-!"

"You just keep on laughing!" Grumbling, I stomped up to Duncan was, still way ahead. "I am going to walk up here with you, Commander Duncan," I declared sourly.

"All right," he replied, as if there was nothing wrong. I should have been annoyed at that, but, instead, it soothed me. Perhaps it was because it seemed like something Irving would do.

We walked in silence for a while. I could hear Aiden and Cleon bicker and banter some distance behind me, but I took care to not eavesdrop. I was still horribly cross at both of them, after all. Still, hearing it made me long for some sort of conversation myself. Of course, the only one I could talk to was Commander Duncan and… well, there was nothing to be afraid of, yes? Commander Duncan was kind. Surely, even if he did not want to talk, he would not be rude about it.

"Can…?" I began hesitantly, fumbling for a topic and coming up with nothing.

"Yes, Layla?" he prompted when I did not continue. "I promise we are near a stopping place for the night."

Oh, that was good to hear. Wait, was it not a little…? Oh, why was I complaining? I was tired! "That is good to hear, but not what I was going to ask."

"Then what was, Layla?"

Oh, what would be a good topic to… ah, maybe… "Might I hear more about the Wardens?" My voice was soft.

"What would you like to know?"

"I… Actually, I would like to know the Order."

"I thought the Circle told you the history."

"I do not want the _history_ , per se…"

"Oh, you want to know about us as a people?" I nodded and he laughed. "Sorry, I'm not used to people asking for that. They care more about how we used to be."

"I have heard the Wardens once swooped down on griffons to fight."

"Swooping is bad, Layla." It was? "Regardless, you want to hear some stories, yes?"

"If you do not mind, yes, I would love to listen."

"Hmm… let's see, then." He thought for a moment before grinning. "Ah, I have the perfect tale." Oh? "Now, there is this one fellow in the Wardens, Ulster, who very much loves his alcohol. It drove the others absolutely insane how much he could drink without getting a hangover. In fact, not once had anyone seen him drunk, or so they think."

"So they think?"

"The only way you can tell he's drunk is because his reflexes aren't as sharp, but that's not something anyone but the older Wardens know. Even then, it takes a while." He chuckled. "So, during a party six months ago to celebrate the new recruits, Alistair asked if anyone could drink Ulster under the table. He meant it innocently enough, but it soon turned into a drinking bet."

"This had to have ended in disaster."

"Ulster drank one full pint to every half the rest of them had. By the time I arrived, Ulster was still drinking and the rest of them were passed out on the floor."

"That must have been hilarious to see!" I thought of the times Anders or Neria had passed out from drinking. "Did you draw on their faces?"

"Me? No, I'm the Warden-Commander. I'm supposed to maintain some sort of dignity." That was no fun. "I gave Ulster plenty of colors to draw with, though." I laughed brightly at that. "After I had my own laughing fit. Ulster took great joy impersonating everyone, and boasting the next day when they all had hangovers."

"Oh, that is just so silly!" I had not thought they would be so ridiculous.

"We're humans, elves, and dwarves, just like everyone else. We still make mistakes. Like challenging Ulster to a drinking contest."

"It seems so!"

I was still giggling when we crested a hill and Commander Duncan pointed to the small cluster of buildings nestled at the bottom. "That's where we're stopping for the night," he told me. "We made good time today."

"Oh, it is _adorable_ ," I cooed. "Are we truly stopping there?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful!" I turned back to let the two boys know, when I saw Cleon suddenly stumble. He quickly righted himself, with help, but… but I knew what had happened. I had seen things like it many times. Cleon had not tripped or 'stepped wrong'. His leg had stopped functioning for a split-second. "Commander Duncan," I whispered as Cleon waved off Aiden's questions. "Cleon, is he…?"

"I want to stop early so that he has plenty of rest," Commander Duncan murmured, indirectly answering my question. "It does not seem bad yet, so I will pretend to not see if, for his own pride."

"Pride is a sin."

"Wardens do a lot of things the Chantry would not approve of." Huh? "Regardless, Layla, it's not at a point where your magic would provide any sort of relief."

"You are… certain?"

"Yes." He smiled slightly. "Cleon is stubborn and willful. It's… serving him well. After Highever, though, we shall head straight for Ostagar. I'm not comfortable pushing his limits much farther."

"If you say so, Commander Duncan."

"All will be well, Layla. Just focus on not tripping."

…Not two seconds later, I tripped and fell flat on my face. What wonderful luck I had.

* * *

"Do I need to order for you two again, or do you think Aiden can help you two with the things you don't recognize?" Commander Duncan asked us as we walked into the bustling inn. Cleon immediately pulled me between Aiden and him as we stepped into the crowd.

"We'll be fine," Cleon answered before turning to grin at Aiden. "Layla and I will only recognize half the things on the menu. At best."

"I think I can recognize most," Aiden laughed. "What's the budget?"

"There isn't one," Commander Duncan answered. Aiden looked startled by that. "I will be very, very surprised if you can out-eat my purse, Aiden. I'm used to financing Wardens. We eat a lot."

"That's an understatement," Cleon mumbled into my ear. I giggled as I recalled the sheer number of plates Commander Duncan tended to work his way through during meals. It was a wonder he did not balloon up!

"Regardless, go find a table and grab yourself food and drink." Commander Duncan gave us a look like he _knew_ what Cleon had said. "I'll get rooms. You three will share."

"Surely-" Aiden began to protest, but Commander Duncan left before he could. So, instead, he turned to me. "Milady, would you not like your own room?"

"Why?" I asked softly. "All the apprentices lived together."

"But…"

"Table," Cleon interrupted. "There was mention of a table?"

"Ah, yes," Aiden agreed. "Looks like there's one there in the corner." I was glad _someone_ could see over the crowd. I could not at all. "Here, I'll lead."

"We need more burly people in the group," Cleon joked as Aiden carefully pushed a way through the busy place. "We're too thin, Layla, to make an impression."

"I am afraid it comes with being a mage," I sighed mournfully. "Rarely will you see a mage that has bulging muscles."

"Are you two mocking me?" Aiden asked sourly. He immediately looked panicked, though. "N-no disrespect meant, of course, milady."

"No, we're admiring," Cleon answered as I winced, again, at the title. I was so thoroughly sick of it already. "And here we find our prize. Do we just sit?"

"Yes," Aiden answered, pulling out the chairs. I was glad to note he pulled out one for Cleon too, not just me. "And a barmaid will be by to get-"

"What do you want?" As if summoned by the words, a woman dressed in a… bizarre dress came over. The dress was quite low cut and short. Why would she wear something like that?

"Water for drink, I believe," Aiden answered as Cleon and I just stared at the woman. "We'll be deciding food in just a second."

"Got it." She waltzed off then, swaying her hips oddly. Surely it would _hurt_ to walk like that?

"Shem'len are weird," Cleon declared as she disappeared.

"Have… you two not been in a tavern before?" Aiden asked.

"We have, but not sat down and gotten someone to take the orders."

"We just ate quiet dinners in our rooms the past few times," I added. "Commander Duncan thought it better." I glanced around and noticed there were other women dressed like the one before. "I know it is warm out, but is that not an odd choice of clothes?"

"I'm sure a few of them provide other services, milady" Aiden mumbled awkwardly. Enough with the title already! Wait…

"What other services?"

"You mean sex?" Cleon asked, incredulously. Oh, so we were being served by prostitutes? That was so odd! "Do shem'len not take such things seriously?"

"Relationships are, but it is considering acceptable to sleep with whores," Aiden explained. "Well, here in Fereldan at least. Can't answer for any other country."

"I have already told you such things were free in the Circle, Cleon," I reminded. "You did not protest much then."

"There were other things to think about, really, but it's fine. I will never understand non-Dalish and I accept this," Cleon sighed and twisted to look at the menu hanging on the back wall. "What is this 'pot pie' thing?"

"Well, it's a meat pie that's made in a pot?" Aiden answered with a laugh. "It's stewed on a stove instead of baked. You can have them with a lot of differing kinds. Seems like pork is the specialty."

"How can you tell?"

"There's a _lot_ of pork on the menu. You can figure out deals that way."

"If you say so. Pork is… pig, right?"

"Yes, have you not had it?"

"Once or twice, when we killed a wild one. Shem'len don't exactly let them run around, though. Seemed good when I last had it. I prefer deer or bird, myself." But… but deer and birds were _beautiful_.

"Sounds like you're getting the pork pot pie."

"I guess so."

Aiden laughed at that before turning to me. "And for you, milady?" he asked.

"Aiden, _please_ , do not call me that," I mumbled. "I am a mage. Mages do not hold titles."

"You're a noble. Regardless of the magic, you are still of noble birth." He paused before continuing. "Milady."

"But…" Oh, I did not want to fight. I did not like it, though.

"Look, Aiden, how about you two compromise?" Cleon suggested. "Keep calling her 'Mistress Layla' or whatever that ridiculousness was." Aiden frowned at that. "Lethalin, if you make her cry, I _will_ hurt you. I'll lose in a contest of strength, but I don't have to fight fair."

"If… that is acceptable," Aiden replied after a moment.

"I can accept it," I whispered, giving Cleon a thankful smile. 'Mistress' was far better than 'Lady'.

"Well, then, _Mistress_ Layla…" He pointed at the menu, ignoring Cleon as he rolled his eyes. "Does anything look appetizing to you?"

"Ah…" I studied the menu. "What is this… 'cornish pastry'?"

"The Cornish pasty?" Oh, there was not an 'r' there! "It is a type of meat pie."

…Oh, the thought of meat made my stomach turn a little. "Perhaps I will have something else then. Is there anything that does not have meat in it?"

"If the Dragon Noodles here are the same in Denerim, mistress, then that should be something."

"I will eat these noodles of dragons, then." I made sure to say it in a _very_ solemn tone, in hopes of getting Cleon and Aiden to laugh. Thankfully, they did and I felt myself relax again at last.

This was good. It was not the Tower, so it could not be perfect, but this here, right now, was quite close. I could live with this.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a simple, mostly light-hearted, chapter. Nothing serious here. Just interactions. Okay, and some minor bits of foreshadowing. And lots of Layla complaining. Hey, she's 17! ...And sun + red hair don't mix well. Sunburns hurt and sunscreen is almost worse. The tale Duncan mentions here is ACTUALLY something Alistair tells you in game. If anyone is wondering what 'dragon noodles' are, it's something they serve at a tavern near where I live. And before ANYONE asks, yes, I had Duncan say Alistair's classic line. In Saga, I'm having Alistair take it from Duncan. Yes, the song is based off Robin Hood, sorry.
> 
> Next Chapter – Another traveling chapter, with Aiden.


	11. Chapter 10) Political Roads

**Chapter 10) Political Roads**

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_Bann Rodolf summoned me at odd times, sometimes. Sometimes it was for another extra bit of laboring, with pay. Other times, it was simply to run a few errands, like sending messages. That day was one of the latter times, but the timing of it was the oddest. In the middle of a Landsmeet._

" _Here you go, Aiden," Bann Rodolf told me, handing me the letters. I tried my best not to even look at the other nobles. It was hard though. There was Arl Howe and Teyrn Cousland, debating with each other. King Cailan and Queen Anora watching over the arguing. Teyrn Loghain keeping an eye out for assassins. Arl Eamon chatting with his younger brother, Bann Teagan. And many, many others. "Deliver these. Don't expect replies. Some of the people are here, after all."_

" _Yes, milord," I murmured, bowing. "By your leave."_

" _Oh, and remember to have fun on the way."_

_How? "Very well, milord."_

* * *

The day started normal. Well, normal being relative, of course. Normal for our group. Master Duncan woke us all up at dawn, Mistress Layla refused to get up, and Cleon dragged her out of bed with lots of complaining all around. Breakfast after that. Then walking. Lots of walking. Good exercise. I rather liked it, despite everything that happened. I missed the Alienage, a lot, and, despite my words to Cleon, I was still a little angry Master Duncan had forcibly conscripted me. But I could see he was a good man, who did what he had to, and I could appreciate that. Of course, he had a habit of giving orders out of the blue and I really wished he didn't.

"Aiden, you should teach Layla and Cleon about the politics of Fereldan." It was a simple sentence. A simple order. I automatically tried to obey, when I realized just _what_ he asked.

"Master Duncan, I am hardly an expert," I mumbled awkwardly.

"You know more than them," he countered. That was probably true, actually. "Layla might know some of it, if she read it."

"I did not," Mistress Layla cheerfully informed us. Her eyes were sparkling. "Circle politics were confusing enough."

"The ways of the shem'len are confusing," Cleon muttered. "If you've _any_ insight, lethalin…" What did 'lethalin' mean, anyway?

"I suppose," I sighed. "Not sure why I should have to…" …Wait, no, I was supposed to follow orders without question and-

"In my experience, the best way to know nobles is to talk to the people who worked for them," Master Duncan explained. "And I'm a poor teacher." Was more or less certain he was lying about that second part, but I couldn't deny the first.

"I suppose the most important thing to remember about Fereldan, at all, is it values freedom highly," I began after a moment. This was _really_ strange. I'd _never_ expected to teach anything! "Freedom and skill, regardless of birth or gender." Though, typically, women and elves had to work harder to be recognized. "Typically, lesser crimes aren't dealt with by the local law enforcement, but by the people themselves. It's very… hands-off."

"That sounds incredibly chaotic," Mistress Layla commented.

"What about the serious crimes?" Cleon asked.

" _Those_ are definitely put down, and immediately, with swift punishment," I answered. "Swift and violent. Long-term imprisonment is frowned upon. The most common methods are public humiliation, whipping, disfigurement, fines, and executions." I likely would have experienced most of those if Master Duncan had not recruited me. "And it's not lawless, despite what it all might imply. The blackhallers hear disputes." Though it could take forever to get a case heard.

"Blackhallers?"

"Judges appointed by the king's seneschal."

"I… see?"

"You mentioned that skill was important, regardless of birth or gender," Mistress Layla noted. "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"

"It is just as I say, mistress," I replied. "Everyone is expected to have some sort of martial prowess in Fereldan." Even elves were expected to at least know how to throw a punch. We just weren't allowed _weapons_ in most places. Highever's Alienage was the only one I knew of where elves were encouraged to learn how to use weapons. "And one's skill in ruling or fighting is far more important to Fereldans than gender or birth." I tried to think of an example, and came on one immediately. "Take Highever, where we're heading. It's rumored that the Lady Elspeth will be inheriting the Teyrnir, over her two older brothers, the Lords Fergus and Nuada, simply because she is more skilled in managing the lands and in diplomacy than the two." And according to those same rumors, that would suit the lords just fine. Lord Fergus was already almost a general in the army by his own skill, and Lord Nuada might just follow his older brother's footsteps in the army, or perhaps even Teyrn Loghain's. He _had_ protected King Cailan from an assassination attempt a year ago, and had only received a scar on his face for his troubles, if the rumor mill was truthful. Then again, the same rumor mill painted Lord Nuada as a flirtatious rascal and-

"Teyrnir?"

Right, I was supposed to be teaching, not being trapped in my thoughts. "That's related to more politics. You see-"

"Can I ask one non-political question first?" Cleon interrupted.

"I suppose," I mumbled. What was I doing as a teacher in the first place?

"What is with Fereldan and dogs?" He sounded so amused. "I thought the Dalish had respect for dogs, but it seems you all have an almost reverence for them!"

"I'm… what?" How could I explain that? Dogs were important. They just _were_.

"I think I'll have to step in the answer that one," Master Duncan laughed. "It can be hard to explain when it's to rooted in the culture." I suppose? They were really just _everywhere_ , from our companions to the armies. The mabari in particular were prized. If you were the owner of one, you were recognized throughout all of Fereldan for being a person of character. "It's tied heavily into the mythology of the Fereldan. The werewovles, for instance, and when the Imperium invaded."

"'The Imperium?" Cleon repeated.

"Yes, the magisters prized hounds, the mabari bred specifically for intelligence, defected to the Alamarri tribes that one lived here in this land." I didn't know that.

"I _like_ that tale!"

"Many do. I imagine it isn't a popular one in Tevinter though."

"What was that about werewolves?" Mistress Layla asked. "I have read some tales, of course, but I do not know much."

"The short version is that mabari are said to be able to sniff them out," Master Duncan stated. "And Fereldans believe that most, if not all of them, have some werewolf blood in their veins."

"Not to say there were not conflicts," I hesitantly added. I continued at his nod. "There are many tales of such battles. One city in particular was said to have been slaughtered in a night." Valendrian had favored these tales whenever the children were getting too awed by the prettied-up tales.

"Good. Might want to explain the Landsmeet now, Aiden."

"Yes, sir." Why was I teaching again?! "Right… um…"

"That is an odd name," Mistress Layla commented. "How do lands meet?"

"It's more the nobles who rule said lands, Mistress Layla."

"So, the nobles all meet," Cleon repeated. "What's so complicated about that?"

"Skill and respect rule, not bloodlines," I reminded. "That… extends to the politics, too."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Again, how to explain? "At the bottom of the hierarchy are the Freeholders. These are people who own actual property. The land and all structures attached to said land. Each freehold chooses a Bann to pay allegiance to. Most of the time this is the Bann closest to them, and it's typical for freeholders to stay with the same Bann for generations. However, there are no formal oaths sworn, so it's entirely possible for freeholders to cast their lots with other Banns, if they are considered more skilled or prosperous. This is especially common in the Bannorn, the center of Fereldan." An area that has _never_ done well with forced rule, if Bann Rodolf was to be believed. One of the many reasons the Orlesians had been so hated here in Fereldan was because how they demanded the Bannorn to submit. They never did. Not fully.

"That sounds so _hectic_!" Mistress Layla protested. "I thought the fraternities in the Circle were chaotic!"

I thought it made sense, though. "Above the Banns in rank are the Arls," I continued. "Some freeholders will, instead, swear to Arls instead of Banns. Typically, no Banns swear to Arls. The only exceptions are the Arling of South Reach and the Arling of Amaranthine."

"Those soldiers mentioned an arl's son when talking about that rapist bastard," Cleon mused.

"Yes, Denerim is an arling. It is also the seat of power for the king, but I'll ge to that in a bit." Maybe. "Now, both Banns _and_ Arls swear allegience to the Teyrns. I think there used to be a lot of them, before Fereldan was formed, but now there are only two. One is Highever, as I mentioned before, and the other is Gwaren, far to the south. The two Teyrnirs, in turn, swear fealty to the king or queen of Fereldan."

"Now _that_ part makes sense!" Mistress Layla laughed. "So, what was this Landsmeet again?"

"It's where the Banns, Arls, Teyrns, and King meet together," I answered. "A yearly council that is only occasionally interrupted by war or occupation. It's the official legislative body for Fereldan."

"But what about your king?" Cleon asked, frowning in confusion.

"He mingles and curries favor with his vassals, in order to prove he is still someone worth following, and that his measures are truly what is best for Fereldan."

"But he's the king. Can't he overrule?"

"No."

"That… what?"

"That is not how it is done in Fereldan. We do not suffer tyrants."

"…I will _never_ understand non-Dalish people."

"A good summary, Aiden," Master Duncan suddenly commented. Of course he'd been listening. "Why not tell them of some of the important familes? They'll need to know."

Why did I have the sudden feeling that this was less for _their_ benefit and more of him testing me? "I can only thing of a handful of families, sir," I mumbled.

"Just the powerhouses, Aiden. They're the ones the Wardens will have to impress."

"Yes, sir." Powerhouses? I could think of five. "I suppose it's best to start with the Theirin family. That's the royal line, traditionally."

"Why only traditionally?" Mistress Layla asked.

"The Landsmeet elects a king upon the old one's passing," I explained. "As such, they can choose anyone. The Theirin line has held onto the throne since Fereldan's fouding, though. King Calenhad was the one who united Fereldan, after all."

"The lake around the tower is named for him!"

"Really? That's… pretty neat, actually." I hadn't known that. "Now, there was talk of Teyrn Cousland taking the throne after King Maric's passing, but that died down in a hurry after Teyrn Cousland _publically_ supported King Cailan."

"So, that's the current king?" Cleon commented. "This Cailan?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "The only time the Theirin line didn't rule Fereldan was during the Orlesian Occupation. King Maric the Savior, however, rallied the people and threw off their shackles to restore Fereldan to its freedom."

"Alone?"

"Of course not! There were _many_ who helped him. His future wife, Queen Rowan, for one, led his cavalry. I'll get to her family in a second. The best family to mention next would be the Mac Tir family."

"Mac Tir?"

"A recent noble family which rules Gwaren. Teyrn Loghain was King Maric's dearest friend, King's Champion, and is still the leader of the armies. He was not a noble before the Rebellion, but was named one afterwards for his part in the Rebellion. His daughter, Lady Anora, is the current queen." And I… was not fond of her. She was beautiful, certainly, and quite savvy. But I, and many of the other elves, thought her too distant and calculating to actually like. Too political in a world where politics often oppressed elves. We much preferred King Cailan, who was... not the smartest, but a very good man who wanted to rule _well_ , regardless of the poltics.

"Elevated for being the King's best friend?"

"For his victory at the River Dane, I think?" I never learned _much_ of history. Just what was common, or in Valendrian's stories. "It was an important battle in the rebellion. I've heard it corresponded with the return of the dragons."

"Irving talked about that day, once," Mistress Layla commented. "He said it was terrifying, but awe-inspiring." I could imagine. Of course, I'd probably never see a dragon ever, so it was just fine to hear a description. "Ah, but I am taking us on a tangent! Who is the next family?"

"The Guerrin family, family of the late Queen Rowan. Her younger brothers are still alive, though. Arl Eamon, the eldest of the two, rules Redcliffe, a prominent arling in Fereldan." Though, it was not until Queen Rowan's marriage to King Maric the family _truly_ rose to power, from my shaky understanding. "Arl Eamon is a well loved, and powerful, figure in the Landsmeet, as is Bann Teagan, who took over Rainesfere. Though the family is not without some controversy. Arl Eamon's wife is an Orlesian noble, Lady Isolde."

"Why would that be controversial?" Mistress Layla asked. "Wait, no, hold on, I think… it is because of the occupation, is it not?"

"Yep. But I understand it's a love match, which can be rare among the nobles." Though, not even Bann Teagan seemed to have an actual _explanation_ for how it was a love match, from what I'd heard Bann Rodolf and his wife gossip. "The other powerful arl family would be the Howes, who rule Amaranthine. They are a _very_ old noble family, one of the oldest, which should tell you something about their prowess." Of course, the reigning Arl Howe was no friend to anyone save Teyrn Cousland himself. To basically everyone else, he was a… not kind person. Elves knew well to steer clear of him, always. "I think they used to be more powerful, but they were overthrown in the past by the Cousland famiy."

"Sounds like a war in the making," Cleon muttered.

"Actually, it seems the Rebellion forged a strong friendship between the two houses. There was much talk of Lady Elspeth Cousland marrying Lord Nathaniel Howe, before he was squired away to the Free Marches." No one was all that certain why Arl Howe chose to send his heir so far away, though. "But the Couslands are the last 'powerhouse' family I know of." Some would argue they were even _more_ powerful than the king. "Like the Howes, they are an old family, and they've ruled Highever for almost as long. The family is near universally beloved, and are often seen as a symbol of Fereldan's 'best'." A lot of King Cailan's support came from the Cousland family, who showed complete faith in him at all times. "They are considered second in rank to the king, and many nobles have been vying for a friendship or marriage tie to them." There had been a commotion long ago when Lord Fergus had married an Antivan woman, mostly because it was one less Cousland on the 'market'. "And… I don't know how to really elaborate further on any of them."

"Do they have any enemies?"

" _None_ that speak openly," I answered him. "As I said, they are beloved, and have many, many powerful friends. Friends that would not hesitate to defend them." Even the elves would defend them. Teyrn Cousland's kindness to the elves was well known. He gave _many_ places of employment within his own household, and treated them with both care and dignity. The Alienage in Highever was said to be incredibly well-maintained as well.

"Not to mention that most of the nobles are perfectly aware of the time Bryce sent Crows to decimate the Orlesian force that stole Highever from his father," Master Duncan cut in. …Wait, the Teyrn sent birds?

"Why would he send birds?" Mistress Layla asked, mirroring my own thoughts.

"The Antivan Crows are assassins." Oh. Oh, wait, what? "Bryce is fluent in Antivan and cultivated contacts among their merchants and Crows. He utilized them very well during the Rebellion, as I understand it. He made more when he was sent by Maric to be diplomat, not counting the other contacts he made when his diplomatic tenure dragged on and on, through many countries." That was… wait, why was Master Duncan referring to them by their first names? Without a title even? "Good summary, Aiden. You missed a few things, but they aren't talked about much."

"I… thank you, sir," I mumbled awkwardly. My throat was dry from all the talking.

"I suppose the best thing to mention would be the reasons _why_ the Couslands are so influential. It is not just because they are Teyrns, or even that they are one of the oldest ruling families. It is because Highever and its lands are part of Fereldan by _choice_."

"How does _that_ work?" Cleon asked, glancing at me. I shrugged. "I'm assuming you mean this is different than with the others, though I don't see how exactly-"

"Oh, do you mean it is a principality?" Mistress Layla suddenly exclaimed. She beamed when Master Duncan nodded. "Oh, that makes perfect sense."

"Why don't you explain it to them?" Master Duncan suggested. Was today some big holiday called 'Information Day' and I didn't know it?

"Okay!" Well, Mistress Layla did seem quite happy. "Since it is a principality, that means it is a semi-autonomous protectorate of Fereldan. Most principalities actually uses titles such as 'prince' to denote their rulers, but I am guessing the Couslands are loyal enough to Fereldan that they choose to share their titles. This would also make sense for why they are the highest-ranked nobles, as you implied, Aiden. They could, at any point, choose to leave Fereldan and become their _own_ country, with little to no repercussions, legally."

"It also means that the affairs of Highever are the Couslands alone and _no one_ , not even the King, has the right to overrule them, or appoint any sort of Regent, without their say," Master Duncan added. "They are very good allies to any they choose. Thankfully, they are devoted to Fereldan and it's royal family."

"And their stance of the Wardens?" Cleon asked. "I'm assuming it's a good one, since we're heading there."

"Yes, they respect us highly. They know the history well, and take our warnings as seriously as possible," Master Duncan answered. "The Couslands are the _only_ nobles who are fielding a full force. Only the absolute minimum needed to run the castle will be staying, with the two youngest Couslands commanding it. Bryce and Fergus will march with their troops." As was proper for Fereldan.

"But why would they keep their youngest here, out of danger? Wouldn't the older fighters be more…?" Cleon floundered for a word. "Tired?" Tactful.

"The old know their limits." Master Duncan said the words so solemnly that I felt a piece of fear and dread drip down my spine. "We've hit them. We're going to die soon no matter _what_ happens. But the young? The young don't know what's impossible for them yet. They have their entire lives ahead, to plan and to fight. The young represent hope for the future, should things fall apart." He glanced back at us. "It's standard Warden policy too, to send the newest recruits away from the battlefield in a time of crisis while the older ones stay and hold the line."

"To protect them?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes."

"It would also leave them without guidance," Mistress Layla pointed out softly.

"If it's a time of crisis, then that's fine," Master Duncan replied, surprising me a second time. "Old Wardens have habits. Old Wardens know what they can and cannot do. They know the limits. But a new recruit with the barest of hints? They don't, so they can do what other Wardens wouldn't. And not get in trouble about it." He smiled slightly. "That's the mentality, at least."

None of us really knew how to reply to that. It was hard to even think about. After all, Master Duncan was one of those 'Old Wardens' and it was hard to think of something that could even give him trouble, much less kill him. What in Thedas could defeat a bunch of Wardens to the point they'd send away their youngest recruits?

"Whoa, what is _that_?" Mistress Layla suddenly breathed, pointing to something in the distance. I turned and saw it was a beautiful castle, rival to the palace in Denerim. That was…

"Castle Cousland," Master Duncan answered. "Capitol, you could say, of Highever. We'll stay there a few days before moving on to Ostagar to the south." Well, things were certainly strange. Never would I have thought I'd see _Highever Castle_ with my own eyes. "Might need to stop for another night before getting there in the morning."

"Can we camp out this time?" Cleon requested. "If we're going to be trapped in another building of stone, I'd like to remember the time under the skies."

"We'll camp a lot more on the trip to Ostagar, but I don't see why we can't camp tonight either." Mistress Layla pouted and I hide my own worries. I'd never been camping before. "You'll have to teach the two city dwellers, though."

"Done."

* * *

"You don't set up a shelter like that!" Cleon laughed as I attempted to salvage the thing he and Master Duncan _claimed_ would keep me safe from the bugs. "It's going to fall on you."

"At this point, I think I'd let it," I muttered before realizing I let my annoyance seep through. "Um…"

"Nah, you'll hate the bugs." He just laughed it off? Really? "Trust me. Besides, your main problem is that you're using one of the upper supports for a lower." What? They all looked the same to me. "Here, let me-!" A yelp made us both turn to see Layla had ended up tangled in her tent. "Okay, no offense, but I think she needs a bit more help."

"Just tell me the difference between an upper and lower."

"Uppers are larger." He grinned. "I'll be right back."

"Glad someone is having fun," I grumbled as I set about trying to figure out the differing lengths for these support sticks. "Someone needs to."

Cleon was left in charge of our little group while Master Duncan was out hunting for some fresh food to complement our rations. The reason behind this, at least, was obvious. Cleon was the only one of us three who knew _anything_ about camping. He'd been briefly confused by Duncan's 'tents', but soon found the similarities between it and whatever the Dalish used and had quickly set up his own. It was standing _perfectly_ in one corner of the campsite Master Duncan had stomped out, as a testament of the skill Cleon had. In comparison to my lopsided one and the one that was trying to eat Mistress Layla.

I'd just finished pitching my tent, which looked mostly okay but was still lopsided, when Mistress Layla sighed heavily. "I just cannot get it!" she complained.

"You're not far off," Cleon reassured. "Aiden, how are you doing?"

"I… might have it?" I replied hesitantly, turning to face them.

"Looks a bit wobbly, but it should hold up nicely through the night." Mistress Layla pouted. "Oh, come on, Layla. One more time."

"This will be the _twelfth_ time," she pointed up sourly. "I believe this is just a time to give up."

"Maybe try praying?"

"I _did_. Ten tries ago. He did not help."

"Ah…"

"Is it possible there's something wrong with the supports?" I asked softly.

"Could be," Cleon admitted easily. "Okay, how about Aiden and I take a look while you set up the campfire site?"

"How do I do _that_?" she demanded.

"Gather some sticks and put it in a pile there were Duncan dug a little hole. Put some rocks around it too."

"Oh, very well." She wasn't a happy camper, at all.

As she went to do that, I walked to Cleon's side and carefully looked at the supports. They all _looked_ fine to me. "Guess my theory was wrong," I mumbled.

"No, the wood is twisted on that one you're holding," Cleon corrected, studying it.

"It is?"

"Yes, you can't tell?" No, it all looked the same to me. "That would've thrown off the balance. Combined with the other problems she was having, and we might have our answer for why it kept twisting."

"If you say so." I glanced at Mistress Layla, who was crouching in the center of the campsite. "So, how do we fix it?"

"Not all that hard. Just have to take it into account." Indeed. Within minutes, Cleon had Mistress Layla's tent up, looking almost as perfect as his own. "There."

"The site is complete, I believe," Mistress Layla called then. "Oh, you got it up!"

"Yeah, there was a problem with a support, like Aiden suggested," Cleon told her, walking over and helping her up. "Good site, by the way."

"It is?"

"Yep." I wasn't sure if it was or wasn't, but Mistress Layla certainly looked _quite_ relieved that Cleon said it was. "Now for the fire."

"Perhaps we could magic the campfire?" I suggested. I immediately felt horrible at the pale, horror filled look Mistress Layla had. "I meant no disrespect, Mistress Layla!"

"N-no," she tried to reassure. Her smile was wan, though, and her voice shook. "It is n-not th-that."

"Magic is to be respected, not thrown about recklessly," Cleon scolded me. I wondered if he knew why Mistress Layla was afraid, or if he was just being protective. "Besides, we don't need it. Just a bit of flint." He demonstrated with what looked to be rocks that he produced from the small back at his waist. To my surprise, he had a roaring fire before long. "There we go!"

"Ah, perfect timing," Master Duncan commented, walking back to camp right then. He was carrying what looked to be three rabbits. "I made a good haul, though I think I'll need help with that deer."

"Aiden can do that," Cleon stated, volunteering me for whatever it was. "I'll skin and begin cooking those."

"Thanks."

"I do not suppose I could just eat whatever is _not_ meat?" Mistress Layla asked hesitantly.

"I've found some berries and mushrooms," Master Duncan replied. "But why the sudden aversion to meat, Layla?"

"Um…"

"I think it's my fault," Cleon admitted sheepishly. "I'll go foraging too, if you'd like."

"That would be wise, then," Master Duncan replied. "Come on, Aiden."

"Yes, sir," I answered. "May I ask what we are doing?"

"We're going to carry the deer to a better spot and skin it for the meat."

"I see." Suddenly, I wasn't feeling up to eating meat, either. "Very well then."

"Venison is good for you."

"If you say so, sir." Just keep going with orders, Aiden. That was what elves were _supposed_ to do. Even if they were in odd circumstances like this. Perhaps things would be more normal in Highever? I'd like that.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, lots of information here. Mostly about the nobles and Fereldan's legal system. Sorry for the dry reading (I personally ADORE Fereldan and it's nobles, so…). I decided that Aiden actually does have a keen grip on politics, mostly because being the servant of one TENDS to mean you need to know how to read something like that. Not so much on the fine-tune stuff, though, due to him hearing most of this through gossip. Also, yes, more foreshadowing. I like foreshadowing. It's part of my literary harem. And one of these days, yes, you will find out what 'the incident' is that bothers Layla so much.
> 
> Next Chapter: First part of the human noble origin, with our Male Cousland narrating. See you then.


	12. Chapter 11) Origin of Nuada Cousland

**Chapter 11) Origin of the Noble Champion, Hero of the North – Scion of the Couslands**

_Nuada Cousland POV_

* * *

" _Other lands may be ruled by people who believe they've been chosen by the Maker himself, but in Fereldan, rulers must earn their place." This view is often cited as one of the many ways my country is 'barbaric', but, as I've seen throughout my tenure as a diplomat's son, it's also the reason why Fereldan doesn't have as many problems as the other 'more civilized' countries. It's also the reason why my family has ruled Highever for nearly 600 years. We have always tried to be brave and just to all, regardless of rank or race, and it has earned us undying loyalty._

_Of course, it has the price of always appearing strong, invincible even, when all you want to do is break down and bawl. It's a heavy burden knowing so many people, people you must take care of, look at you with adoring eyes, see you as something close to the Maker Himself, and you're all too aware of how human you really are. Mistakes might be forgiven by the people, but never forgotten, and mistakes cost lives._

_My greatest dream is to live up to the expectations of my people. It is a dream I share with my twin sister, inherited from our father, and leads us to always push ourselves to the limits. But whether I fulfill that dream by pursuing the path of a noble or a warrior is something I must decide soon. My home is being threatened in the south, and time is running short. I will not run from the choice, though. I am a Cousland, and a Cousland never shows his back to anyone or anything._

* * *

"My lord, you have such skilled hands," Theresa giggled as I helped her do the lacings for her blouse.

"Careful with the compliments," I teased. "You might get another demonstration."

"Mmm, tempting!" We shared a laugh and I finished helping her get dressed. She was one of the nurses going down to Ostagar with the soldiers, but she'd wanted something fun to do as a stress release and I'd been happy to oblige, of course. I had to admire her choice of venue, though. I'd never rolled in the hay quite so literally.

"Please let me know if the protections failed," I requested, helping her up. "I know we used a couple, but there's still the chance."

"I will, milord," she promised, smiling. "But I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Nuada, are you in here?" a voice called. I recognized it immediately as Elspeth. "Nuada, Uncle Rendon arrived. We need greet him."

"Be right there," I replied, jumping down from the hayloft right next to her. "See?"

"You would be hiding in the stables." Most people would think she was just making a comment, but I could see the signs of exasperation. Maybe it was because we were twins, but I'd always been able to read her easily, despite many people crying that statues were more emotive.

"Oh, good afternoon, Lady Elspeth," Theresa greeted, smiling brightly at her. "Are you well, milady?"

"I'm fine," Elspeth reassured as I helped Theresa down. "I believe there was someone looking for you, though. I didn't catch her name, unfortunately. I'm sorry."

"It's probably Gwen, milady. We're supposed to do an inventory check today, before the march." She winked. "I got distracted."

"I'm sure." She reached over and helped Theresa get the straw out of her hair and the creases out of her dress. "There we go." She smiled slightly. "You look lovely."

"Thank you, milady." Like pretty much any other resident of Highever would've, she beamed. Most of Highever had learned by now that, while Elspeth was stoic, her _actions_ spoke volumes about what she felt. Not to mention that many prized winning a small smile out of her. "I must take my leave, though."

"Take care."

"I will." She curtseyed to Elspeth, winked at me, and raced off to do her job.

"You've another admirer, 'Princess'," I teased, faking a dramatic sigh. "Oh woe is me! You're more successful with my conquests than me!"

"I'm sure you'll have plenty of bosoms to cry into," she muttered. "Perhaps you would like to go check in with Madelyn again?"

"I might in a few days. Her younger brother is marching, after all. She's probably sick with worry, and you know how she doesn't have the best health normally." I shook my head. "But I'm sure she's busy fixing uniforms even now, since she's one of our more talented seamstresses."

"She might not be as busy as you think. Uncle Rendon didn't come with all his soldiers."

I frowned at that. "I thought Father made the call for everyone."

"Yes, he did. From what I heard, though, the recent rains flooded the river."

"Of course that would happen _now_." It was strange, though. While we did have a lot of rain in the past few weeks, none of it seemed strong enough to flood a river, especially to the point where Uncle Rendon would've had to divert soldiers. Then again, I'd never been good when it came to weather's effects on the land. That was more of Fergus's thing. "So, the soldiers won't be marching today?"

"I don't know, but Father sent for us. We'll go see him first, and then greet Uncle Rendon if he's not with Father." She reached over and straightened my shirt. "I've been looking for you for nearly an hour."

"It's not like Father will care," I reminded her, picking out the straw from my own hair. "Anything stuck in my ponytail?"

She tiptoed to get a better look over my shoulder and plucked a few out. "There we go. You're presentable, at least."

"What? I don't get a 'lovely'?" I sighed mournfully again. "Oh, _woe_ is me!"

"Someone has to keep your ego in check." She covered her mouth to hide her giggle. "Who knows how big it would get without me?"

"Ugh, I'd probably be more insufferable than Thomas and Vaughan combined!" The thought of being without Elspeth was, actually, pretty terrifying. While Father played diplomat all over the continent, we traveled with him, and often ended up with only each other in the midst of false friends. Likely, though, it would happen soon. Each day reminded me more and more we were destined for different paths, and I couldn't say I was exactly _unhappy_ about my path. I just wished it would parallel hers a bit more.

Sensing my thoughts, she took my hand and gave me a smile. "You'll do well as a Warden," she whispered. "You and I both know that."

"And I won't as a Cousland," I sighed. "At least, I won't for much longer. I can't play the games like you and Fergus and the games are where everything is heading nowadays. I can't hide in the army for long."

"So, will you leave to join him in Ostagar, then?"

"I've no intention of joining the Wardens until I've a good grip on that violent streak I've got." Growing up, Elspeth served as my conscience. But, as a Warden, I'd be separated from her. I knew a lot about Wardens, probably more than most outsiders. Elspeth had been cross with Uncle Duncan for trying to recruit me three years ago and took her revenge by ferreting out as much information as she could. Neither of us believed she got _everything_ , of course, but I, at least, knew about the Taint, knew Wardens would die from it, and that the Joining was either going to give me a slow or quick death. It was a shame she never thought to ask about the Archdemon, though, considering the current circumstances.

"You might never leave, in that case," she teased.

"I _know_! You must be so sad at that prospect." She covered her mouth again to hide another giggle. "Anyway, my favorite sister-"

"Don't let Oriana hear that!"

Oh, that would be a bad thing. Oriana was Antivan! "My favorite _twin_ , we should really go meet Father."

"Now you're the responsible one?"

"I guess so. You should drag Dairran here later to be the irresponsible one."

"Nuada!"

* * *

When we entered the main hall, Father was chatting with Uncle Rendon. He turned to greet us when the guard announced our presence, but instead paused and reached over to pluck out a piece of straw from behind my ear. "Been inspecting the hay?" he asked dryly.

"Yes, Father," I replied cheekily. I thought I'd gotten them all. I must've just shoved it out of sight by accident. "It's very comfortable and smells _amazing_. You should take a nap there when you get a chance."

"Well, it would be a better bed than I'm likely to get at Ostagar. Camping is a nightmare with armies." Father _could_ have a better bed, but he would never take better things than his men unless he absolutely had to. "Speaking of armies, Rendon, when do you think yours will arrive again?"

"Likely later tonight, Bryce," Uncle Rendon replied. "We could march tomorrow." He sighed. "I'm horribly sorry about another delay, dear friend."

"Rendon, I told you. The appearance of darkspawn after so many centuries has left us all scrambling." He absently tossed the piece of straw into the fire behind him. "I'll send Fergus ahead, and you and I will ride together, like we used to."

"When we had less grey in our hair and fought Orlesians, not myths."

"Shame we won't meet Bryland until far later, though. Remember how the three of us would gallop about?"

"So, do Nuada and I need to tell Fergus the current plans?" Elspeth asked, carefully breaking into the conversation. Uncle Rendon and Father could talk for ages about the 'good' memories of the Rebellion.

"Ah, yes, that's one thing I needed from you," Father confirmed, dragging himself out of memories. "The other thing is that I'm leaving the castle in your care, pups. Divide the labor as you see fit."

"So, I handle the labor stuff and Elpseth handles the thinking stuff?" I joked. "That sounds simple enough."

"As much as I know you enjoy fighting, Nuada, you know you'd be bored in a day if you only did that."

"Who said I was _only_ doing that?"

"Maker, what am I going to do with you?" Still, he laughed. "Besides, you're really going to join a hunting party? You might have to do that early this year, all things considered."

"No, _I_ will hunt," Elspeth muttered. "Nuada is far too noisy for it."

"I make good bait!" I protested with a laugh. I knew I was bad at hunting the wildlife around here. "But I get your point, Father. I'm better at cleaning anyway."

"Oh, before I forget, Nuada, Delilah asked about you," Uncle Rendon chimed in then. "To be frank, I think she's smitten."

"Is that so?" I smiled, despite my confusion. "The last I'd heard, she couldn't _stand_ me."

"I'm sure that's her way of dealing with her feelings. You _do_ have a reputation." Considering I'd spent a good two or three years cultivating said thing, I damn well _better_. It was useful most days. "Of course, you remain the darling of many people, despite it."

"I try to be charming." It was a lot of work sometimes, but the Couslands did whatever it took to keep Highever running smoothly. That meant being friendly. "Still, though, I'm flattered by the thought." Truth be told, Delilah wouldn't be a _bad_ option for marriage. So long as I was a noble, that was something I'd have to think of, and it was _certainly_ a better prospect than Elspeth marrying Thomas or Nathaniel. Well, her marrying Nathaniel would be tolerable, mostly. I'd have to have a drink or two with him first, instead of just communicating through letters like we've been for the past couple of years. The Free Marches had a way of changing people, just like any other country in the world.

"Uncle Rendon?" Elspeth called softly, speaking up then. Likely, she was going to change the subject. Prospective marriages were always tiptoed around us, likely because we were the 'hottest' on the market, so to speak. Titles were a nuisance sometimes.

"Yes, dear?" he replied with a smile. He always was soft on her.

"Well, Delilah actually wrote me about your bad joints of late, so I arranged for some teas and hot stones, for when you go to sleep." As always, Elspeth went with actions to express her feelings of concern. "I hope I wasn't too forward."

"No, not at all!" He did seem a bit uncomfortable, though. "That's incredibly kind of you, dear. I'm just not used to the idea of being old!"

"You and me both, my friend!" Father laughed. You'd never know that just last week, he'd been in bed due to a bad case of ulcers. "You and me both!"

"So, was that all you needed from us, Father?" I asked, getting away from that thought. That day when Father vomited up blood was going to forever haunt my nightmares.

"Why? Do you have plans, son?" I just grinned in reply. "Alas no, there was one more thing. Believe it or not, pups, Rendon isn't our only guest tonight." I wasn't the only one surprised by that. Elspeth looked confused and… and Uncle Rendon actually looked a bit scared. Why would he look like that? "Jacob? Can you bring in Duncan, please?"

"Yes, milord!" Jacob replied, grinning and saluting in his slightly too-big armor before leaving the room. He'd become a guard only recently, but he loved the job.

"Uncle Duncan is here?" I asked, surprised. "It wasn't that long ago he left with that knight who won the tournament." Ser Jory, I believed his name was. He was actually a knight of Redcliffe, but had married Helena, the baker down in town, and moved here not long ago. They had a child on the way, I'd heard.

"Is he looking for more recruits?" Elspeth asked softly, gripping my arm.

"He is," Father answered. "But I've already told him that you're still not wanting to go, Nuada." Of course, if Uncle Duncan _really_ needed more, he'd just call Right of Conscription, but he hadn't resorted to that yet. I still had the time to wait and grow up. I hoped. "I think he's interested in Roland. He was last time, at least."

"Oh, Rory would be _perfect_ for the Wardens!" I exclaimed, grinning. While I was the better warrior of us two, Rory was a lot better at keeping his temper in check.

"It would certainly be a high honor for him" Elspeth agreed, smiling slightly. Rory had been one of our first _real_ friends here in Fereldan and the idea of him being a Warden, even with how harsh the life could be, was thrilling. Plus, if he was there when I went, I'd have someone other than Uncle Duncan I knew, instead of being in a place filled with strangers. I'd had enough of that in the past and didn't like the thought of being alone in the crowd again.

"He'll be staying a few days, health and circumstances willing, so he'll have plenty of time to assess Roland," Father explained before turning to Uncle Rendon. "What's wrong, my friend? You look troubled."

"Was merely caught off-guard, Bryce," Uncle Rendon played off. "I'm at a bit of a disadvantage."

"You know Duncan won't care about such things." Yes, but Uncle Rendon did like to put on a show for guests, no matter who they were. "I'm sorry for not warning you, but he showed up only a few minutes before you did. Eleanor has been running around getting rooms for all of them." She'd already been so busy all day, too. To our grief, we hadn't been able to spend much time with her. Hopefully, we'd rectify that soon.

"Do Elspeth or I need to share, Father?" I asked. "You know our rooms are big enough."

"I think it's settled," Father refused. "But if we get another batch before the soldiers march, I'll know right where to put them." The far door opened then to reveal Jacob leading in Uncle Duncan and three others I'd never seen before. Elspeth immediately stepped behind me at the sight of the strangers and I shifted my weight to make it less obvious. "Ah, I wasn't aware your recruits had settled in already. I hope you didn't drag them from it, Duncan." They were recruits? That was interesting.

"Well, the girl is either a noble or a mage," I whispered as Uncle Duncan laughed and reassured Father that all was well. "Her clothing is too fine to be anything else."

"She's a mage," Elspeth confirmed. "The Circle specifically makes their robes different from most clothing, to identify mages from afar. One of the elves is Dalish, likely. Most of their number have those facial tattoos, after all."

"I'd guess one of their hunters, since he's bearing daggers, and not fond of humans, given the distaste he's showing."

"Are _any_ fond of humans?" She looked sad. "All interactions end in horrid fighting."

"Maybe you can ask him about his culture?" She loved learning of other cultures, for the sheer pleasure and the political weaponry.

"That would be too forward." Of course, her shyness got in the way of _talking_ to people of said cultures unless she had to. "I would guess the last one is a city elf. The clothing and dialect would imply Denerim."

"He was likely a laborer too, based on those muscles. Don't they look _nice_?" I could also swear I'd seen him before, running errands for Bann Rodolf during the Landsmeet last year.

"I suppose."

"Sister, live a little."

"I would rather listen to them."

"What language are they speaking _this_ time, Bryce?" Uncle Rendon sighed. "I only know it's not something I know."

"They switched between Nevarran and Antivan," Father laughed. We were talking in a different language again? That was a habit Elspeth and I _really_ needed to work on. We never noticed. "And poor Elspeth was convincing my son to _not_ flirt with the guests." My reputation came in use again as a convenient means of hiding! It was so nice to see it work.

"It's practically a crime not to!" I bemoaned as Elspeth rolled her eyes. "Look at them! Even without going into how Uncle Duncan is a wonderful specimen in his own right, the others are just _incredible_! Most Wardens are!"

"It's an unofficial requirement," Uncle Duncan joked, playing along with me. The two elves looked startled, and the mage girl went _bright_ red. "How else will we keep our numbers up?"

"I suppose not dying would also work well," Elspeth muttered, ducking her head to make sure I was the only one who heard.

I coughed to hide my snort of laughter. "So, Uncle Duncan, have you introduced them yet? Please tell me I didn't miss hearing the names? I would _particularly_ like to know the lovely lady's." She blushed darker and the Dalish elf pulled her behind him. It seemed, regardless of his people's hatred of humans, he'd taken over protecting her.

"No, I haven't," Uncle Duncan reassured. "Not sure if I should give you the names, though."

"I promise to behave?"

"Elspeth does keep him in line, Duncan," Father pointed out with a grin. The fact that my antics always gave him something to laugh at gave me another reason why I kept up the reputation. "You know that."

"This's true," Uncle Duncan conceded. "Well, we have Aiden Tabris." He gestured at the tall City Elf. "Cleon Mahariel." The Dalish Elf nodded curtly. "And Layla Amell." The Mage bobbed a quick curtsey.

"Amell is the name of a once prominent Kirkwall family," Elspeth whispered in my ear. "It fell because of numerous mage children, and their star daughter, Leandra, running away with an apostate."

"I like that daughter," I whispered back, nodding a greeting to the three. "That takes amazing courage, given our society."

"Yes, I like her too." Her eyes narrowed. "They're watching."

Then it was time for a distraction. "Aiden, did you work, by chance, for Bann Rodolf?"

"I… yes, milord," Aiden answered. The only real sign of surprise, other than the vocal trip up, was the widening of his eyes.

"I thought so," I replied. "You're the one who delivered those Landsmeet messages, aren't you?"

"I _knew_ I recognized him," Father commented. "My apologies, Aiden, for not piecing it together sooner."

"It is fine, my lords," Aiden mumbled, looking down at the ground.

"You know an elf servant?" Cleon asked, almost mockingly.

"Well, we _try_ ," I answered easily, pretending to not notice his scorn. "It's not like you all are the same!"

"It's important to know the names of those who work so hard for us as well," Elspeth murmured, speaking very carefully. She was always a bundle of nerves when speaking to large groups, unlike me. "There are so many things we would never be able to do without their help."

"Is that not hard?" Layla asked softly, peeking out from behind a surprised Cleon. "Few people remember all the names of the Tranquil in the Tower. I think only Irving does, actually."

I had to force the smile to stay on my face at the mention of the 'Tranquil'. I hated the idea. It was just another way the Chantry was hypocritical. So long as no one died, it held itself up as superior and holy, with many not even trying to understand why they lost hundreds to the Qun each year. "I suppose it's not much harder than keeping up with all the chores they have to do for us," I answered lightly. "It's just a bit of memorizing faces and names, just as they have to memorize the best way to do their own jobs."

"Pups, why don't you show these three around while Rendon and I chat with Duncan about the situation down south?" Father suggested then. He knew an argument was starting to brew. He, too, disliked the idea of Tranquility, and he also had harsh words for those who didn't appreciate the work others did for them. "Before you go tell Fergus my message, at least."

"Of course, Father," Elspeth mumbled. I knew why she agreed so quickly, of course. She'd go through anything for family, and this would give Fergus more time to spend with Oriana and Oren before heading out.

"We'll see you at dinner, then," I laughed. "It's a shame that Elspeth wasn't able to fill the meal with your favorites, my dear uncles." Elspeth tugged my hair in silent protest, before frowning slightly. Likely, it was the same reason I was confused. Though Uncle Duncan had simply chuckled, Uncle Rendon looked uncomfortable again.

"We'll see you then, pups," Father stated, taking the attention off Uncle Rendon. What was wrong? Was he worried of the coming battle?

"Follow us, please," Elspeth murmured to our guests, turning to walk away. I, of course, went with her, and smiled at the hesitant way the three complied with Elspeth's request.

"It seems our new friends aren't the follower type," I whispered in her ear.

"They are Wardens," she reminded. "Are any of them?"

"That's a good point." As we stepped outside, I turned to the map hanging on the wall right next to the door. I smiled at it as I touched one particular place marked out. It didn't exist anymore, long abandoned to plague or famine or war. However, _every_ map manufactured in Highever still marked that dead village, because it was where my ancestor Sarim was born, and was the namesake of the family.

"This castle does not look as extravagant as that estate in Denerim," Layla whispered. She colored when I turned to look at her. "Oh, I am sorry! I did not mean-"

"Highever is primarily a fortress, especially in troubled times," I explained, smiling to push away the slight outrage. Highever's luxuries had always been subtler that Denerim's, and it wasn't her fault she didn't see them. "We've stripped it down further to provide for the soldiers."

"I can see why," Aiden commented, urging his fellows to follow us as we walked. "There were a lot of soldiers in the courtyard."

"Cailan requested as much aid as possible," Elspeth mumbled, careful to not look at him. She had already hid behind me again. "Father decided to send them all at one time, instead of in stages like others planned."

"Urien is doing that, I think," I noted thoughtfully. "He left about a quarter of his men at his estate."

"Well, they're gone now," Cleon stated bluntly. "Aiden killed them."

"Cleon!" Aiden hissed as Layla gaped.

"You did. His son too."

"Vaughan is dead along with the soldiers left behind at the estate?" I asked. Aiden looked uncomfortable. "Please, answer me."

"It is true, milord," he mumbled after a moment, looking away.

"He kidnapped some elf girls," Layla quickly added, sending Cleon a dirty look. "No one was doing anything to help!"

"I imagine," I replied neutrally. This would have some consequences, especially for the Wardens. Duncan must need the help if he was risking a political fallout. Well, it was either that or Aiden was skilled enough to be worth the trouble.

"Based on their reactions, I'd say neither of them guessed Cleon would be so blunt or that he would tell at all," Elspeth murmured. "I believe he's testing us."

Yeah, that was becoming obvious. The question was why would it matter that much to him. "Well, we'll likely get a message from Ignacio commenting on how his job was cut short. I hope he isn't too mad."

"He's gotten many other contracts. I'm sure he's just fine. I feel bad for Urien, though." Many would. Vaughan had been a horrible man, and a worse noble, but he'd still been Urien's son. He'd done his best to get Vaughan off that path, but it seemed like Vaughan had finally underestimated the wrong person.

"How can you feel bad for a man who raised someone like _that_?" Cleon spat. Oh, so he'd been eavesdropping?

"Actually, Urien didn't really 'raise' Vaughan, which is part of the problem I've heard," I corrected. "Urien went into a deep depression after Vaughan's mother died and left him in care with nannies while he threw himself into his duties. By the time Urien felt like he had enough of his own sanity to teach his son, Vaughan was a little monster. He's been trying ever since. So, we feel sorry for him losing his only son, who he tried to save."

"Urien had also hoped he could remain faithful to his late wife," Elspeth added softly, staring at the floor. "That's no longer possible. He must have an heir. It's sad for those reasons too."

Aiden was looking uncomfortable, so I added, "Regardless, though, it happened, and I'm sure you had damn good reason to do it." Time for a subject change. "You should spar against some of the guards staying behind. I'm sure they'd love a good workout."

"Do you not spar with them?" Layla asked, curious.

"I… don't spar much, actually." I would practice, a lot, but I tended to avoid sparring unless the person knew exactly what they were getting into. I'd been attacked by too many assassins over the years to learn how to check some instincts, and I was _not_ the honorable knight type. I would snap bones with a well-placed punch and decapitate a person with a shield if need be.

"Too low for you?" Cleon grumbled.

"They always go easy on me," I lied, smiling through the annoyance. If this was a 'test' like we thought, I intended on passing. "It's not very conductive to practicing."

"Cleon, it's not polite to voice such thoughts," Aiden scolded quietly. "We're guests. I know you hate stone, but still."

"Nuada," Elspeth whispered. "We should show them the gardens outside."

"That's a good idea," I agreed. "It might cheer him up." It could also make him angrier, but that was worth the risk.

"Do you mind if I asked what language that was?" Layla chimed in softly. "I have never heard it."

"Do you know what it sounded like?" I asked back, sheepish. "Elspeth and I really never notice when we switch languages. We just speak them."

"That sounds so strange." She colored again. "Oh, I am sorry."

"It _is_ strange." It was a shame she likely wouldn't stay long. I wouldn't have minded getting to know her better. "But it's how we are. So, what did it sound like?"

"It sounded heavy, milord," Aiden noted. "Yet light at the same time. I know it sounds like a contradiction, milord, but-"

"It was likely Orlesian, then," I answered, interrupting his 'apology'. "Trust me. Most things about Orlais are contradictory."

"First hand experience, milord?"

I wished he'd stop with the 'milord' all the time. "Yes, Father served as a diplomat in their Court for three years. We traveled with him at the time."

"What was it like?" Layla asked. "It looks beautiful in the books."

"It is pretty." Indeed, the architecture was breathtaking, if you forgot about that damn court and its Game. "But that's all I wish to say on it." I didn't mind Orlais, and there were many Orlesians I liked, but their court just dragged my opinion down.

"We can speak later of it, Layla, if you'd like," Elspeth offered. I was probably the only one who noticed her voice shake. She was really trying to be a good host. I hoped she didn't collapse from anxiety and stress again. "For now, though…"

"My lady, there you are!" Suddenly, Rory was running up. He looked a bit winded. "I've been looking all over for you," he explained.

"Did something happen?" I asked, curious. Everything had been running smoothly earlier.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard yet. You see…"

"There's shrieking in the distance," Cleon muttered. "Lots of it."

"There's shrieking?" I repeated. I paused to listen and, indeed, there was. Of course, I also knew the voice, so that explained why I'd just automatically ignored it. "Oh, it's Nan. Nan always yells."

"At servants?"

"She also yells at soldiers and nobles. She doesn't discriminate. Trust me." This was the woman who had to deal with Elspeth and me while traveling to different countries. "I think she's helping out in the kitchen today, since Oren is with his parents." Since Fergus was leaving soon, he insisted on spending time with his wife and son.

"Yes, she is," Rory confirmed. "But she's yelling for a specific reason."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Aiden offered. "I do not mind-"

Nan's distant shrieking finally turned coherent, cutting Aiden off. "GET THIS MANGY MUTT OUT OF HERE!"

"My lady, your mabari has made it to the larder again," Rory sighed, looking at her pleadingly.

"I thought Nan locked it," she mused. "Why would Eoin be there?"

"I don't know, milady, but I ask for your assistance. He'll bite the hand off anyone that's not you."

"He's not _that_ bad." Still, she smiled softly. "I'll get right on it, though. Thank you, Rory."

"You're welcome, milady." Though Rory was blushing, I disguised my laugh as a cough to save his dignity. He'd had a crush on her for a _while_ , and I could afford not teasing him about it for one day.

"Nuada, I leave the guests in your care," Elspeth told me. I grinned at the relief I read easily to silently tease her, and she grimaced slightly in acknowledgement of it before she walked off. Some things would never change.

"Well, Rory, since you're here, and in charge of the guards when the rest leave, let me be polite and introduce you to our stranger guests," I laughed. "They are Layla, Cleon, and Aiden. I… don't think there are titles?" I turned to them. "There aren't, right?"

"No, milord," Aiden answered.

"It's a shame mages and elves aren't allowed, yet." It took me two seconds to realize that was aloud, mostly because of the startled look on their faces. "Ah, forget I said anything." I _slipped_ , damn it. This was happening more and more often. "Warden recruits, this is Ser Roland Gilmore, one of our most skilled knights."

"Welcome to the madness," Rory joked, saluting to them in respect. "I assure you; things shall calm down in the next couple of days. We're a bit over capacity at the moment. Many responded to the call for arms, more than anticipated." We'd thought more would stay behind to keep an eye on the crops. "Forgive me, though, but I really must get back to making sure patrols are set for the next few days."

"Why did you not finish that first?" Layla asked, looking thoughtful.

"When Nan tells you to run and do something, you run and do it before she flays you alive!" He grinned. "She also took care of me as a young squire. I'm still conditioned to listen to her."

"Just remember to eat, Rory," I told him, grinning in return. "Otherwise, you'll find yourself on the wrong end of _another_ lecture from her." With all the chaos, Rory had actually skipped meals without realizing and ended up horribly lightheaded.

He shuddered at the thought. "Until dinner then, my lord. I hope you enjoy your stay, Wardens." He saluted again in farewell, and raced off, as fast as he could in full armor.

"How do you people run in those heavy things?" Cleon muttered, watching him go. "Bulky, too."

"If you're talking about the armor, it just takes practice," I answered, leading the way again. All right, how many doors was it again? "Sometimes, we organize races in heavy armor. It's hilarious to watch, and fun to participate in."

"You participate?"

"Well, yes, I do. Like I said, it's fun." I nodded at Aiden. "He could probably do it too, with a little practice. What weapon do you favor?" Though Cleon wore his weapons very visibly, Aiden didn't.

"Two handed sword, milord," Aiden replied promptly, if sheepishly. "And a little bit of knife in an emergency."

"You might actually like heavier armor. What kind do you wear normally?"

"I… don't, milord."

"Uncle Duncan let you go more than a day without armor?" That was a surprise. "Take some from our armory later today or tomorrow."

"Milord, I couldn't-"

"I insist."

"I… very well, milord." I'd double check with Uncle Duncan tomorrow to make sure he did actually go.

"This place is huge!" Layla exclaimed, catching my attention. I noticed her studying the pictures scattered on the walls. "We have been walking for a while and have not yet circled around!"

"Speaking of that, do you intend on just having us walk around, babbling?" Cleon asked.

"That's kind of what a tour _is_ , Cleon," Aiden sighed.

"Oh? Hmm. Strange concept." The fact that he didn't know somehow didn't surprise me. Dalish and 'tours' didn't really seem to mix. "Still, it would seem that there should be a little more… structure?"

"That is how it is when we show foreigners the Circle Tower," Layla added with a smile. "We had one not too long ago. His name was Regalyan, from White Spire. We all just called him Galyan, though."

"White Spire?" Aiden repeated, frowning in confusion.

"It is the main Circle in Orlais."

"Some of their mages will actually attend court," I added absently. Unless we'd gone the wrong way on accident, the door I wanted would be coming up on the right soon. "I remember one in particular, Vivienne. She was stunningly intelligent and beautiful." She wasn't much older than me, but she seemed to already have a firm grasp of the Game. I almost looked forward to her taking it by storm.

"Orlais allows mages out of their cages?" Cleon asked.

"If they are useful or 'fun', Orlesian court will do just about anything."

"So, tours are supposed to have structures," Layla stated, turning to subject back to the original point right as I caught sight of the door I wanted. "Yet we have not seem to have found a starting point?"

"That's because we're actually going to start here," I explained, opening the door and stepping out of the way so that they could see the extensive gardens that led all the way to the cliffs. "We don't really have time today, but there's a path to the beach hidden somewhere out there." They didn't answer me, just stared. "You three _are_ welcome to move around, you know."

"How did you get so many?" Cleon asked, smiling. He had a nice smile. He should do that more often.

"From what I understand, the garden has been here for many years. Even the Orlesians kept it as is, because it appealed to their sense of beauty." I noticed Horace there and motioned for him to join us. "Horace, the main groundskeeper, can probably tell you a story about each type of plant we've got out here. If he can't, though, his assistant, Beryl, can."

"When she gets back from the Alienage," Horace confirmed with a grin as he joined us. "Her little one has a fever."

"Does she need a doctor?" I asked, frowning.

"Lord Fergus arranged for one yesterday, little lord, so don't fret. Medicine worked just fine. She's just going to make sure he didn't sneak out of bed. Still contagious."

"Oh, he's at _that_ stage of illness." I made a face. "Maker, I hate that time."

"I think every little boy does."

"Your assistant is an elf?" Aiden asked, looking a bit surprised. "Not… ah…"

"Aye, she's my assistant, and a damn good one," Horace proudly declared. "When I retire, she'll take over for me. The rest of Fereldan might look down on elves, but Highever likes giving everyone an equal chance. There's an Alienage, yes, but that's more because elves like being together. Makes sense if you ask me." I had to cough _again_ to hide a laugh. It really wouldn't have been polite to make fun of Aiden's surprise. "Now, then, do you want to know the flowers?"

"I would," Layla gushed, eyes sparkling. "They are incredibly pretty and…" She suddenly yelped as she tripped. Cleon caught her as if it was normal. "Um…"

"You're not the first to fall for the flowers," Horace joked. "Lady Oriana did as well, right into the beds." Okay, that time I _did_ laugh. Oriana wouldn't mind. "Now, then… let me show you around."

* * *

It took a couple of hours, but the three were so enraptured by the stories that I didn't have the heart to drag them away. Besides, it gave me time to decide the next place to take them. Ultimately, I decided for one of my other favorite places in the castle. "This is our library," I announced as we walked into the room. "I apologize for the lessened selection. In order to free up room, we had to move some of the books into storage." The storage, of course, being in that lovely place underground.

"This is _lessened_?" Cleon asked as he gaped at the things. "Truly, shem'len are so lucky to have so many tales."

"There are extensive books on how stupid our ancestors were, as well." I really couldn't help pointing that out. "We try to learn from their mistakes."

"Some are more successful than other at it," a familiar voice joked. I couldn't help but smile at Aldous, who was sitting next the fire in front of two of the younger squires. "Welcome, welcome, you three," he greeted. "I ask that you are careful with the books when you read them."

"So, we are allowed?" Layla asked shyly. Her eyes were sparkling.

"All may satisfy their hunger of books. Just so long as it isn't literal." He smiled. "You may also listen to the lesson I'm putting these two through, if you'd like. I'm making them recite the history of Highever for now."

"So, you are teacher and librarian?"

"No, I am merely a teacher. I was a student with Bryce, and I have taught all three of his children." Like Nan, he traveled around with us to the different countries. "Currently, though, I just teach his grandson and the squires. Once a month, I make my way down to the Alienage to give those who desire advance lessons."

"You teach elves?" Cleon asked.

"It's something Bryce set up after the Rebellion. He thought it a shame that so many intelligent people were unable to access education, so he provides tutors for all, no matter their race or rank. My old bones don't let me travel far, unfortunately, but few humans mind walking up to the Alienage for the advance lessons and few elves mind them coming in, so long as there's no trouble."

"I like that," Aiden murmured. "It's not like that in Denerim. We all learn to read only to read the warnings they place about."

"You barely know?" Layla gasped. "But they teach everyone in the Circle!" Yes, well, one of the few good things about the Circle as it stood was that it made sure everyone got a good education.

"You need it to read your books, Mistress Layla. But elves need only know how to work."

"And few Dalish know how to read at all," Cleon added. "I only know because I got bored. We're primarily an oral culture." Elspeth would love to know that.

"But… but books are _amazing_ ," Layla gushed. "They tell you about things you are likely never going to see and you can disappear into entirely different worlds and… and…!"

"If you are looking for fictional stories, child, I'd recommend that shelf over there," Aldous interrupted with a laugh, pointing to a section of the bookcases. "There are also numerous myths, folklores, and songs in the section next to it." He nodded at Cleon. "We also have a small section for Dalish lore. Too small, really, but your people are very secretive. If you don't mind looking through them, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If something is incorrect, I wish to fix it."

"Ah, sure," Cleon stammered. He looked like someone had snuck up and hit him in the head. "I can do that."

"Splendid!" He beamed and turned to Aiden. "And you, child?"

"I would not mind listening in on your lesson, actually," Aiden admitted. "I have mostly learned by listening to Valendrian, our Hahren."

"So, through hearing, you are likely to learn best," Aldous murmured. "It is good to realize that. No two people learn the same. Not even twins." He turned his smile at me. "Take Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth. Twins who looked enough alike as children that they could pretend to be each other." Yes, but our personalities gave us away almost instantly. "Lord Nuada had to learn through reading aloud and acting out parts. Lady Elspeth could simply read it and be fine." We'd also use figurines and toys to learn. "Ah, but I digress. Please, sit by me. Nicholas, start again from the Black Age, please."

"Nuada," a soft voice called. I looked up to see Mallol walking up. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Of course not, Mallol," I replied, facing her. There wasn't much point in me listening to little Nicholas tripping over his lessons. "Is everything all right in the Chantry?"

"Yes, I just had a question, so I thought I'd take advantage of the lull." People had been in and out of the Castle's Chantry all day to pray. "I'd heard Fergus would be leading the troops alone today?"

"Yes, that's the general gist of the plan. Father will leave tomorrow with Uncle Rendon." Still, I was confused. "Please, do not take offense, but why would you want that confirmed?"

"I'm leading a vigil tonight to pray for the soldiers, and wanted to know if Teyrn Cousland should be included or not in tonight's list of names." Oh, that was right. I'd forgotten about that. "Will either you or Elspeth be joining us tonight?"

I hesitated a moment. The songs sung were pretty and comforting, but I had a feeling the Maker wouldn't be helping until his followers stopped being such bloody hypocrites who changed history to suit their whims. "I think Elspeth and I have an early tomorrow, unfortunately," I gently refused. I didn't think either of us could make it through prayers tonight without being sarcastic about something. Stress wore down even the toughest masks, and we were under a lot.

"Since you are running the place, yes?" She smiled warmly, taking no offense. She never did. "I will make sure to include you in my own, private, prayers. You two will have a lot of work ahead of you, I'm sure."

"Thank you, Mallol. I appreciate it."

"I should've guessed you were in the library." I turned at the voice to see Elspeth walking up, Eoin trotting faithfully at her side. "It was either there or the practice yards," she continued. "Hello, Mallol. Is all well?"

"Yes, I was just confirming the details of the day, to know how best to lead the prayers tonight," she replied, still smiling. "Was all well in the kitchens?"

"Some pests had snuck in, but Eoin dealt with them. He broke the lock doing so, though. But dinner was saved."

"Oh, how wonderful!"

"Yes, what a good boy," I teased, scratching Eoin behind the ear. He liked it when I did that. "Keep driving Nan insane, will you?" He barked happily in reply. "Good boy!"

"Nan is going to hurt you," Mallol warned. Her grin made it hard to take seriously. "So-"

"W-what is _that_?" Layla gasped. I looked up to see she'd actually dropped a book to stare and point. It took a second to realize she was pointing at Eoin.

"Eoin is my mabari, Layla," Elspeth answered softly. "Is something the matter?"

"He's huge!"

"All mabari are that size, Lady Layla," Aiden explained. "There is a reason why they serve with the troops."

"He looks like he could kill anyone," Cleon added, kneeling down to look Eoin in the eye. He reached out, stopping when Eoin growled. "How much at risk am I?"

"I wouldn't say a lot, unless you make Elspeth nervous," I answered him. "His protection preference goes 'Elspeth', 'Oren', and then everyone else grouped together."

"Oren?"

"He's our nephew. Mabari are big on protecting kids." Oh, that reminded me. "Elspeth, how much time do we have until Fergus has to leave?"

"We don't have much time at all," Elspeth answered. "If the soldiers don't leave soon, they won't make it to a good camping spot and will have to stay the day."

"We can't have that." Highever wasn't in anymore danger than the rest of the nation, and the threat was south. "Should just one of us go?"

"Lord Nuada, Lady Elspeth, I believe Mother Mallol and I can show the three the rest of the castle," Aldous volunteered with a smile. It widened when Mallol nodded in agreement. "Go on and say goodbye. It'll be a while before you see him again."

"Will your joints be fine?"

"Get moving, whippersnapper, or I'll assign you extra reading, student or not!"

I laughed outright, while Elspeth smothered a giggle. "Well, then, we shall see you all at dinner." I bowed to them all and turned away. "Let's see how many things we have to deal with before meeting Fergus, shall we?"

* * *

Surprisingly, the only thing that delayed us was Mother, who silently asked us to distract two of our other guests while she focused on calming Landra. Her son, Dairran, was marching with Father as his squire, so she'd come to see him off. She'd only brought one lady in waiting to tend to her, the stunningly pretty Iona. I immediately started chatting with her, leaving Dairran to Elspeth. It was more for Dairran's sake than Elspeth's, since I knew he was interested. Sadly, though, I also knew little would come from it. Despite my joke to earlier, I knew Elspeth would never dally with anyone, much less Dairran. No matter how hard he tried to flirt, Elspeth would just ignore it, just as she did with Rory. The years in numerous courts left her with the inability to believe compliments without a motive, and that _anyone_ would like her for herself, not just her title or beauty.

"You're making me blush, my lord," Iona laughed, blushing after I gave her a compliment. So far, she hadn't shown any signs discomfort. Thank the Maker. I didn't want to upset her. Landra would have my hide! "I'm no one special, truly."

"The fact that you are a lady in waiting speaks otherwise," I pointed out. Mother had opted against ladies in waiting, because she'd wanted elves in her entourage and the political climate was too chaotic to throw in another big change. I knew one of the reasons Mother so adored Landra was because she _had_ made that change.

"My family has served hers for many years. She elevated my place as a reward for the loyalty. I hope the position will pass onto my daughter."

"You have a daughter?" I subtly checked her hands and found no wedding ring.

"Oh, forgive me, I shouldn't have mentioned her."

"I bet she has your pretty eyes," I teased.

"She… haha, I suppose so." She smiled sadly. "Many say she looks a great deal like me. Only Valendrian and I seem to see her father in her."

"Who's Valendrian?"

"He is the hahren in Denerim. Lady Landra's home is not large enough for an Alienage, so my family lives in Denerim's."

"Aiden mentioned he was from there." Well, he didn't quite so _mention_ , but it was close enough.

"Aiden? Aiden Tabris?" She sounded surprised. "What is he doing here?"

"He's a Warden recruit, actually."

"Strange." Seeing my inquisitive look, she elaborated. "He was supposed to get married soon. Valendrian arranged it. I… also know many looked to Aiden as Valendrian's successor as Hahren." That spoke well of his leadership abilities. "He did receive some rough training with weapons. His mother, Adaia, was always a bit of a troublemaker. But I wouldn't have imagined him as a Warden. Poor Shianni and Soris… the three were always so close."

This was starting to become an uncomfortable topic. "So, you mentioned your family? This would be your daughter and… someone special?"

"No, no longer." She shook her head sadly. "There has been little time for such things."

"As beautiful as you are, I'd think many would line up."

"Haha, you flatter me." She smiled. "No, I've not been interested in long term things since my husband's death from illness. And there's been little time for short term." She glanced at me shyly. "Though, there might be some for a few days, since Lady Landra is staying put for a bit." Oh, I liked the sound of that, especially since she _wasn't_ married. I'd no intentions of romancing another man's wife.

A cold nose nudged my hand and I looked down to see Eoin panting happily at me. "Did Elspeth send you to fetch me, boy?" I asked, scratching him behind the ear again. He barked happily. "I should've known." I returned my attention to Iona. "Forgive me, but I must deliver a message to my brother. Perhaps we can talk more later?"

"I'd like that, my lord," she replied immediately, smiling. There was _just_ enough coyness to raise my hopes of a tryst later. I certainly wouldn't say 'no', so long as she was agreeing to it freely, not because she thought it was expected of her.

"Let's meet in the library after dinner then."

"I look forward to it." She curtseyed in farewell and I smiled as Eoin led me past the little alcove and up to the family wing of the castle.

Elspeth was waiting there in the hallway for me. Dairran was nowhere in sight. I'd find him later to chat. "We have to delay Fergus until Mother returns," she told me, crouching to give Eoin a big hug in thanks. "She's seeing Landra to her room, but wants to say goodbye to Fergus too."

"It shouldn't be hard," I laughed, feeling myself relax. There was no need to put on an act here. Family could always be trusted. "Maker, I'm tired."

"Perhaps you should restrict your exertions, then?"

"That's no fun, though!"

"Well, I know who's outside _now_ ," Fergus laughed right then, opening the door to his room to wave us inside. He was dressed in full armor, a sight I couldn't get used to. "Come on in, you two. What's going on?"

"You're going to march today," Elspeth told him as we hurried inside. Oriana was sitting at the table, mixing a small batch of poison. She'd insisted Fergus take some with him earlier, in case he was without any of his normal weapons. Oren was nearby, jumping on the bed and practicing his counting abilities. "Father will leave tomorrow with Uncle Rendon."

"So his men were delayed again? You'd swear they were marching backwards!" Fergus sighed before glancing at me. "Shame that you aren't heading down. It would be so much fun killing darkspawn with you, and it'll be tiring without your arm."

"You think it'll be that easy?" I asked. "These _are_ the things the dwarves and Wardens spend their lives fighting."

"The reports from the south have spoken of good battles and no signs of this being a Blight, just an abnormally large raid." Fergus looked contemplative. "I've no doubts the Wardens are certain, but we might have more time than previously assumed."

"Sorry for not greeting you sooner, you two," Oriana chimed in then. She capped off the vials and came to hug me. "That concoction needs a very precise mixture."

"What is it?" I asked. "I can smell it from here."

"It's fleshrot," Elspeth answered. Of course she'd know it by scent. "It seems more concentrated, though."

"It is," Oriana giggled, going to hug her as well. "You remember that trick I showed you?"

"Ah, I see. I'll definitely remember to use that then."

"There must be something wrong with my head, since I take tea from you two poison masters," Fergus laughed.

"Dear brother, we're Couslands," I reminded. "I think that's a given."

"Good point, little brother."

"Ninety-nine, one hundred!" Oren finished counting, bouncing off the bed and running straight for the four of us. "Hello, Uncle! Hello, Auntie!" I missed the days I had that much energy. "Papa, is there really going to be a war? Will you bring me back a sward?"

"That's 'sword', Oren," Fergus corrected, bending down so that he could lift Oren high above his head. "And I'll find you the mightiest one in the lands!"

"Yay! You're the best, Papa!" Oren giggled as Fergus handed him off to me. "Uncle, you'll teach me swords, right?"

"I think that's more of a job for Rory than me," I hedged. I didn't teach, and Oren deserved a good teacher.

"Relax, Oren," Fergus gently scolded. "You'll see a sword soon enough."

"I wish I could be as assured as you seem to be, dear," Oriana sighed. She smiled slightly, though, as Elspeth went to put the poison vials in Fergus's pack, and do a check of it. "My heart is disquiet."

"Love, you'll frighten him. I'll be back soon. You know I don't lie." He didn't to her, at least.

"Do Elspeth and I have to step out of the room?" I teased. "You two don't seem to be finished at all."

"If he doesn't leave now, I'm not letting him," Oriana muttered, making me laugh. "I'm serious."

"I should drag you along," Fergus laughed. "I'll be miserable down there in the southern rains."

"Good. More reason for you to speed your return."

"It's a shame you won't be able to talk to Uncle Duncan before you leave, so you could learn more about what's going on," Elspeth commented, handing Fergus his pack. "I put in an extra set of shirts. You're likely to foul up at least one beyond cleaning."

"Ouch, Elspeth!" Fergus laughed, accepting the pack. "And he's here?"

"Yes, he is, with three new recruits."

"Damn. Well, I'll see them in Ostagar, I suspect."

"What recruits?" Oren asked, still smiling. He was giggling and squirming. Seriously, I wanted that energy.

"They're Warden recruits, Oren," I told him. "They're two handsome elves and one lovely mage, actually."

"You'll have your work cut out for you, Elspeth," Fergus teased. She just rolled her eyes in response as Oriana giggled.

Oren, however, was focused on one thing only. "I bet they came on griffons!" he declared excitedly. "Big and fluffy griffons swooping all over the place!"

"Oren, griffons are only legends," Oriana chided as I resisted the urge to say the punch line to one of Uncle Duncan's favorite jokes.

"The darkspawn were too," Elspeth pointed out. "But we all know how that turned out."

"Speaking of darkspawn, I'd better get on the road," Fergus sighed. "So many darkspawn to behead and so little time." He kissed Oriana and ruffled Oren's hair. "Wish me luck, and I'll be back in a month or two!"

"I'd hope, dear boy, that you'd wait a bit for us." We all turned to see Father walking in. "And here I thought I was going to beat you two here, pups," he sighed, making a face. "Darn."

Mother, slipping in behind him, shut the door, and immediately came to hug me. "You've been all over the place today," she scolded, as she gave a second hug to just Oren. He gave her a kiss on the cheek in response. "The one time I saw you and you went flirting with Iona."

"She's pretty!" I joked. "Sorry, though. You looked busy with Landra."

"I am _never_ too busy for you, and you know it. You should've at least said 'hello' before doing what I asked." She tapped the tip of my nose, knowing it irritated me. "Tomorrow, I think you, Elspeth, and me should spend some time together. It's been a long while since we've been able to just sit down and talk."

"Perhaps we can do a picnic on the beach?" Elspeth suggested hesitantly. "I'm sure the Warden recruits will enjoy seeing it, too, and you know Uncle Duncan won't say 'no'."

"That sounds fantastic," I agreed. "We can set it up for after Father and Uncle Rendon leave, to keep you from fretting, Mother."

"Making plans without me, huh?" Father teased. "I see how it is."

"It's too late today to do anything with you!" Really, all that was left in the day was Fergus leaving, and dinner.

"And I'm going to be up all night with Rendon more than likely, to figure out logistics." He sighed. "I hated that part of leading armies. A shame Aldous can't march with me to help out this time."

"Landra said she made Dairran brush up on it," Mother told him. "It's one of his best skills."

"I knew I was making him my squire for a reason." He grinned. "Personally, I'd like to not leave the castle at all, but, if I must, it'll be with talented people."

"Speaking of leaving, we are delaying someone," Elspeth reminded, petting Eoin to hide her own unhappiness of Father and Fergus leaving.

The reminder set Mother off on her fretting. "Oh, Fergus," Mother sighed, hugging him. Fergus gave Elspeth a dirty look that she shrugged off. "My little eldest, going off to war. I hoped none of you would know it." It was a sentiment echoed by many of the Rebellion's veterans. "I will pray for you everyday while you're gone."

"I'll join you in those prayers," Oriana sighed. "Might we speak one now, please?"

"It won't hurt," Father agreed, smiling at his daughter by marriage. "Please, lead us in it."

She nodded. "Maker, please, be a shield for our soldiers. Watch over our sons and husbands and see them safely back to us."

"And if you could send us some wenches and ale, that would be great!" Fergus added with a laugh. He immediately turned contrite at Oriana's glare. "For the men, dear! For the men!"

"What's a wench?" Oren asked then. All of us looked at each other as we tried to figure out how to answer him. "Isn't that something with a well?" We _could_ go with that, except his second question would be why Fergus was wishing for wells.

"A wench is a woman who serves ale, Oren," Father said after a moment, grinning. "Or a woman who drinks a lot of it."

"Bryce!" Mother scolded, as the rest of us laughed or giggled. "Honestly, it's like growing up with a bunch of little boys! Thankfully, I've a daughter, and a daughter by marriage."

"Yes, you do," Father teased. "Both specializing in poisons!"

"It's a civilized weapon. Just like a bow."

"Elspeth, maybe we should drag Oren out and leave the couples to their teasing," I joked.

"That might be a good idea," Elspeth agreed. "Oren, do you want to play with Eoin a bit?"

"Yeah!" Oren agreed happily as Eoin barked in acknowledgement. "Let's play hide and seek!"

"You can play with your uncle and auntie when I'm gone," Fergus commented. "I'm counting on you two to guard the people here, by the way."

"I'd say you'll need the protecting more than us," Elspeth noted.

"You're _blunt_ when you want to be."

"And smart," Oriana added. "If you get yourself hurt, I will never forgive you."

"Well, if that's not an incentive, I don't know what is!" Fergus laughed.

"All right, enough," Father gently interrupted. "Fergus, if you don't march now…"

"It'll be bad traveling all around." Fergus nodded. "Farewell, Father, Mother."

"Stay safe," Mother whispered.

"You must return to Highever soon," Father added. "She will miss her young lords and she's not one to anger."

"Bye, bye, Papa!" Oren said cheerfully, hugging his father's legs. "I'll see you soon!"

"We all will," I agreed, grinning. "Have fun storming the ruins until then!"

"Remember the vials, Fergus," Oriana murmured, kissing his cheek. "I'm certain they'll come in handy."

"Don't forget your first aid lessons," Elspeth added, looking away. I knew it was because she didn't want to cry.

Fergus did too, so he made a point to hug her. "I'll be fine, everyone," he declared. "I think the most danger I'll be in is Cailan's crazy schemes to stave off boredom, and Uncle Loghain's annoyance at us!" That got a laugh out of us, and he took advantage of it to whisper in my ear, "Nuada, you and I both know at least one thing Uncle Duncan wants." Yes, we did. All of us in the room did. "Will I be seeing you at Ostagar?"

"Unless something changes within the next couple of days, I'm going to say 'no'," I told him, just as softly. "Surely things aren't that desperate yet." If they were, Uncle Duncan would've already told Father.

"I hope so." He gave me a hug. "Stay safe, Nuada."

"You'd better promise I'll see you again."

"You will, Nuada. I swear it."

"Then, until we meet again, brother."

"And you." He pulled away, ruffled my hair, and walked out of the room.

"The balcony has a good view of the courtyard," Elspeth mused as soon as Fergus was out of sight. "Shall we?"

"You know it," I replied with a grin. "We are _required_ to embarrass him, after all."

"I don't know about 'embarrassing', but we should see him off." She stood up and smoothed her skirts. "Will any of you join us?"

"All of us!" Father laughed, picking up Oren and setting him on his shoulders. Oriana immediately took Mother's arm for comfort. "For Fergus, and for our brave soldiers."

Here, here to that! May nothing go wrong in their absence!

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is Nuada, our 20-year-old human noble. We don't really see him fighting here, but he's a warrior trained by Loghain, so starts with the Champion specialization, though he does know non-knightly ways of fighitng. We also have his twin, Elspeth, who's actually a rogue. I _like_ the Couslands having a close relationship with Howe, the royal family, and Duncan, so here it is. For those curious about the 'diplomat' thing… okay, it's actually a bit long, but the short version is that in this story's backstory, Bryce served at the diplomat for Maric, and took his family with him. As a result, Nuada and Elspeth have actually been in Fereldan for only half their lives, give or take, and have a good grasp of other cultures and languages. And many, many quirks and fears and bad coping mechanisms.  
>  I… wow, I ended up writing a lot here. Whoops? I guess I just wanted to flesh out Highever some. And yes, I have a mention of Vivienne here. I know we don't know her age, but considering she was in running for First Enchanter, I'm guessing she's easily in her mid-thirties or maybe even forties. She could probably be older, but I'm just taking a guess from her look and the knowledge. Regaylan is a protagonist in Dawn of the Seeker.
> 
> Next Chapter – the rest of the human noble origin, with Cleon narrating. Because Cleon serves as a good counterpoint to the group.


	13. Chapter 12) Last of the Couslands

**Chapter 12) Origin of the Noble Champion – Last of the Couslands**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

" _Normally, it's Lyna waking me up in the middle of night because of a nightmare," Ashalle teased gently as she runs a comb through my hair to get out the tangles. I remained silent, embarrassed that it had rattled me so much. I was already eight! I was too old for this! "Da'len, this would be easier if you'd go by the fire."_

" _There was fire in the dream," I mumbled, pointedly looking away from that source of light and warmth._

" _Really?"_

" _I… I dreamed that someone we trusted went through the forest with torches, in an attempt to burn us out." I twisted to look at her. "That won't happen, right?"_

" _Of course not." She kissed the top of my head. "Dalish only trust Dalish, and Dalish would never betray each other."_

" _Okay."_

" _Would you like to sleep with me tonight, Cleon?"_

"… _Please?"_

" _Of course, da'len. Anything to make you feel safe again."_

* * *

"Oh, so Iona's daughter is the girl who gave me flowers? I'll have to tell her in the morning. She raised her daughter to be so sweet!"

"I'm sure she'll enjoy hearing that, Mistress Layla. Did you get enough to eat?"

"Yes, I did! Lady Eleanor was so nice to me when I told her I could not eat meat. Did you get enough?"

"Yes. The Couslands made certain no one went hungry tonight, I gather."

That was part of my problem. 'No one' included their elven servants. Of which, there were a lot of them. And they were treated well. Equals to the other human servants. You'd think I'd be happy with that, but it just made me uncomfortable. When I saw that Vaughan, I was _certain_ that all the beliefs were correct. That most shem'len were worthless bastards with power complexes and no sense of bravery at all. That Duncan and Layla were exceptions that proved the rule. But now, I had an entire… family? City? Section of a country? They all believed that elves weren't below them. They treated them as equals. It was unnerving, really.

I'd done my best to find the hidden flaw, the hidden sign that all shem'len _were_ like that. I'd probably been belligerent about it. Aiden had certainly given me a lecture about being polite, before apologizing for it. But there was nothing. _Nothing_. It was like these Couslands had nothing to hide.

"Cleon, did you get enough to eat?" I jolted out of my thoughts to see Layla leaning over me. Normally, that would've been impossible, but I was curled up in a chair in the room Aiden and I were sharing for however long we were staying in Highever. "Was it not fun?" she asked, looking confused. "I had fun! The joking and teasing they all did was relaxing." Glad it was for someone.

"I particularly liked that one joke Arl Howe played on Teyrn Cousland," Aiden noted with a soft laugh. "The one Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth joined in on."

"There were many," I reminded. Oh, so many. They were all like the Clan, with the joking and teasing. But not like the Clan at the same time, by bringing in the guests and servants as if everyone was equal.

"Oh, sorry. I meant the one about the soap." I had no idea what he was talking about. "Cleon, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Layla pressed. Oh, great. She was frowning now. "You have been acting strangely all day."

"Ever since Teyrna Cousland greeted us with hugs this morning," Aiden added. I didn't need to be reminded of that. She hadn't cared one bit that I was an elf, or a Dalish. She'd seen the discomfort, and had taken measures to try and make me comfortable. I didn't think she realized my discomfort was because she was so nice. "Did the food not sit well with you?"

"It was fine," I stated. It was, truth be told. Nicely cooked, but simple food. Teyrn Cousland had apologized for the simple fare, but extravagancy during a war wasn't something they did unless they had to. Practical. "I'm fine."

"Did you have any weird tripping incidents earlier?" Damn it, Aiden! I was trying to keep those hidden!

"Are you all right?" Layla asked, now looking worried. As I knew she would. "Is it the-?"

"I just need some air," I interrupted, standing up. I made sure not to look at either of them, grabbing my pack as a convenient excuse. "Don't wait up, Aiden."

"W-wait!" I didn't. Just left the room and turned down the hall as fast as I could to get away. I needed to think a bit. And glare at offending limbs that would seize up at random moments. I hadn't actually told anyone about it, but Aiden had noticed the sometimes odd movement. Layla, probably, knew what caused it. Duncan _definitely_ seemed to know, and kept a close eye on me. It bothered me to be so closely watched. I hadn't been sick since I was a child, and now suddenly I was sick again, and everyone seemed to be watching me closely, like I'd collapsed at any moment. I didn't need that irritation when I was trying to figure out these strange people and-

And I ran right into someone. Literally. I was _really_ out of it today, if I was doing that. I hadn't done that since my first days of training as a hunter. Worse, though, was the fact that I'd run right into that Nuada who'd showed us around earlier. I couldn't help but study him again as I steadied myself. As if I'd get a different opinion the second time round. But no. Nothing. Still the same shem'len with long black hair tied back in what Aiden called a 'ponytail' as if it were both practical and vanity. Still had the same blue eyes that looked like they saw everything and nothing. Still wore the smile of a fool while moving with the grace of a hunter. Still wore simple clothes that appeared more expensive than anything that Vaughan character wore. Everything about him was just like his home. A contradiction of everything I knew.

"I know I'm good looking and all, but is that really the reason you're staring?" he asked dryly, with a good-natured smile. "What's wrong?"

"You're a mess of contradictions," I retorted. I kept wondering if bluntness would throw them off. "I can't make sense of them."

"Hmm? Oh, well, I think I can drop the mask a bit, if you promise not to tell." Mask? "Uncle Duncan said you were trustworthy. And suffering from the Taint."

"I'm fine." The reply was instinctive.

"I've a feeling you and I have similar definitions, neither of which fit the norm." Still, I could see him relax, just slightly. Things fell into starker relief. The seeing everything. The air of a fighter. The practicality. "Anyway, was there a place you were wandering too or did you just need to wander a bit?"

"The latter." But then again… "But I wouldn't mind finding that garden again."

"Here. I have to pass it on my way to the library anyway. I'm meeting Iona."

"For what?"

"An intelligent discussion followed by… well, something I find fun." He shrugged. "She seemed interested, at least. I just need to make sure she is offering because she wants to, not because she feels it's expected."

"And if it is?"

"I like my partners willing, not questionably consenting."

"…You couldn't be less like that Vaughan."

"I thank you for the compliment!" He laughed before pointing the way to go. "I actually almost killed him once."

Huh? "You did?"

"That slipped out, didn't it? Damn." He sighed ruefully. "Yes, I did. He was making untoward advances towards Elspeth during a party. He grabbed her hard enough to bruise. I broke his elbow and leg and would've collapsed his windpipe if she hadn't stopped me." He what?

"That sounds a bit excessive, but we _are_ dealing with younger siblings." I studied him again, this time noting the similarities between him and that Elspeth. "I think it was mentioned you two were twins?"

"Yes, we are, but the similarities in looks are mostly because we're siblings, not because we're twins. I don't think you got a look at Fergus, but the three of us all look alike. Elspeth and I take after our mother in terms of features, but all of us got Father's black hair and blue eyes."

"You wear your hair longer than others I've seen." Much longer. Mid-back, just like his sister.

"That's mostly because I'm lazy," he laughed. "I never bothered to get it cut while growing up, and now I'm too used to it being long. I'm not the worst when it comes to vanity, though. Uncle Loghain always makes sure to have these two little braids falling right by his face, no matter what the circumstances are. We tease him silly about it." And who was 'Loghain'? "Cailan always makes sure his hair is brushed and tied back just right too." That was the king of these shem'len, right? "I'm sorry. I'm rambling."

"It's fine." Not sure if I wanted to ask about any of that, though. "Which of you two in the younger? Between you and Elspeth?"

"Elspeth is. She's the baby of the family. Why?"

"Nothing." Huh. I didn't think… "I… have a younger twin myself. Lyna. We don't look much alike, though. Not in coloring, at least."

"Oh, so you understand why I get so protective." His smile was soft. "Can you tell me about your sister?"

"Not much to tell. She's equal parts annoying and endearing, like any other younger sibling. She's pregnant now, though. And… and a widow, too."

"I'm sorry to hear that." The scariest thing? He _looked_ it. "Was it related to why you're afflicted with the Taint?"

"And how do you know _that_?"

"Elspeth asked Uncle Duncan because she saw you moving oddly earlier." I… I thought I'd been moving fine. Yes, my arms were less responsive and weaker than they should've been, but otherwise… "If you were asking about how I guessed it was related, though, it's simple. If Elspeth was pregnant, and a widow, I'd fake my death if that's what it took to get around Uncle Duncan's Right of Conscription." He shrugged. "The only reason I wouldn't would be if staying was more painful."

"…You're smarter than you like to portray, aren't you?"

"Well, if you're stepping out into a battlefield, wouldn't you want your opponents to underestimate you?" His smile, right then, took a decidedly menacing look, before it morphed back into the carefree smile I'd seen earlier today. "Regardless, this door here will lead you to the Garden." He pointed to a side door I almost hadn't seen. "Stay out for as long as you'd like, Cleon. There's no curfew here. I would recommend some sleep, though. Elspeth, Mother, and I plan on dragging your recruits to the beach tomorrow." Beach?

"Have fun?" I returned as he walked away. He laughed and waved over his shoulder. Weird shem'len. Weird… and a bit dangerous, actually. All the more because I could understand him. I had some things in _common_ with him.

I wasn't sure how much I liked that, to be honest.

* * *

The garden was… relaxing. Strange, but relaxing. There were no trees, but the flowers almost made up for it. I wished I could show it to Merrill, Lyna, and Tamlen. They would've loved it.

Sighing, I sat up from where I'd laid down to just bask in the night air and starlight. There was this section of the garden that was just soft, sweet-smelling grass, as if designed simply for laying down. Well, it might not have, but I'd done it anyway. Nature was best when you were laying next to it, after all, and… and was that smoke I was smelling? Grumbling, I stood up and went to find the source of it. Idiotic shem'len treating fire like it was a toy, and not with respect. They had fires almost everywhere. Surprised nothing had burned yet.

My search led me inside, to both my relief and my disappointment. I didn't want fire anywhere near the beautiful garden, but I also didn't want to return to the stone castle. Stone was cold and unyielding. Unfeeling. How could anyone prefer it to the trees or flowers? At least the shem'len here thought to bring some of their flowers inside to decorate the halls. It made it a bit easier to bear it. Of course, the smoke smell kept growing stronger and I found myself becoming nervous. Smoke always meant fire growing up, and there were only a handful of places where 'fire' didn't mean horrible danger and-

My thoughts stopped as I turned a corner and found two armed and armored men dumping some liquid onto some curtains, and carrying torches. "What are you two doing?" I demanded, unnerved. The smell of the liquid was… awful. It was like poison, but worse.

"We've been spotted?" one asked, twisting to face me. He wore a helmet that covered his face. "What were the orders for that?"

"Kill, of course," the other one answered, drawing a sword. I saw the bear imprinted on his armor. "Everyone dies anyway." What? "Let the nosy knife-ear be one of the first. Set the place on fire."

Though I was startled, I let my instincts take over. I killed them both, earning some minor cuts for my trouble. Obviously, they hadn't expected an elf could move fast and efficient enough, or that I could actually use the daggers on my belt. I had to catch the torch as the second one fell, trying to figure things out. I couldn't _quite_ grasp it. Why were they trying to set the place on fire? Shem'len were idiots, but… but enough thought, I needed to tell someone.

I held onto the torch just long enough to put it somewhere I thought was safe, before sprinting full speed down the halls, hunting for someone who could explain, clearly, what was going on. Was it an attack? Wait, of course it was. But who? This place, for all its unnerving contradictions, had seemed highly defensible. Who could've snuck in arsonists?

"Rendon, is something the matter?" That voice. I recognized it. That was Teyrn Cousland, the one in charge. Like… like a Keeper, but without magic. Like the Hahren in the Alienage, but shem'len. Yes, if anyone should know what just happened, it should be him. Based on the faintness, I was still a distance away. But getting closer.

"Everything's fine, Bryce." And that was his best friend. Arl Howe, or something? Even better. He'd be able to help his friend with this. Maybe he knew something. Just had to get to the room. "Just a little unsteady. I must've had too much wine at dinner. Can't drink like I used to."

"I know the feeling, friend. Here, I'll help you to your rooms. It's late."

"Thank you, dear friend. Thank you."

I finally found the room the voices were coming from and swung in. "Sorry, but there are these shem'len… who... are…" I tried to explain, but the words died as I took in the scene. Arl Howe had a dagger in his hand. A bloody dagger. Teyrn Cousland had a dagger in his stomach. A bloody dagger. I could process those two events. What I couldn't understand was why there was only one dagger.

"Hmm?" Arl Howe removed the dagger and sneered at me. "Ah, a witness," he sighed. "Pity. I'd hope for this dagger to just kill him, but I suppose I should-" I moved without thinking again. Knocked the dagger out of his hand, and hit his throat as hard as I could to try and collapse the windpipe before targeting that spot on the chin you could hit to completely knock out a person. He dropped like a stone, as expected, but I had to wonder if I hit him hard enough. Under normal circumstances, I would've been certain, but the weakness in them wasn't something I could account for. Should I take a dagger to him, just to be certain? I had _three_ to choose from, after all. The two I owned and the one somewhere on the floor.

A wet, hacking cough reminded me this wasn't just about killing and I whirled to help Teyrn Cousland. "Hang on," I told him as I wrapped one of his bloody arms around my shoulder. He was using his other hand to keep his guts inside his body. "Where do I need to take you?"

"Main hall," he gasped out. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." I carried him out of the room and picked a random direction to go. Hopefully, not the wrong one.

"I didn't think… he'd succumb to jealously." Huh? "I thought he'd… rise above the hatred. That he wouldn't… wouldn't betray me." Betryal. I'd heard about it, of course. In the stories. In history. But I couldn't understand it. It was right in front of me, and it made no sense. It was something I never had to experience outside of vague nightmares. "Not after the Rebellion. Not after all we fought for. I… I always saw the good in him. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing!" Why was he apologizing? It wasn't his fault at all! I knew that much, at least. "Save your breath."

"Ah… yes, you had come in for something." You were kidding me. He needed to shut up and focus on surviving! "What was it?"

"Fire." It was all I could say.

But that was enough for him to understand. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing _now_?"

"Because he means to kill everyone." I went cold at the thought. "And you're been dragged into the situation. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, so shut up and focus on keeping your guts where they're supposed to be." There was noise up ahead. "I guess we're close." Hopefully, someone could help me with him. I wasn't sure how to treat a stomach wound like this. Simple bandaging didn't seem like it would be enough.

"Warden Cleon! Your Lordship!" Oh, I knew this shem'len who appeared in front of me. Gilmore or something. He was supposed to be guarding the castle. "My apologies, sirs," he continued softly. "The castle has been breached." I could hear a thud and looked up to see the main gates were shut, and soldiers were doing everything they could to _keep_ them shut.

"What is it with shem'len and apologizing for things that aren't their fault?" I growled. "You got…" Betrayed. The word was strange and heavy. "There are soldiers trying to set fire to the place."

"Yes, I know. That's how I found out. Teyrn Cousland, I'm afraid Lady Landra and Lord Dairran are dead." I remembered them from dinner. Landra had joked about dirty things (that would've gone over Merrill's head), and Dairran had tried flirting with Elspeth while talking to Teyrn Cousland about supplies for the march. "A fire started in their room. There was no way to get them out."

"I see," Teyrn Cousland murmured. "A letter needs to be sent."

"I've made a note of it. The ones who started the fire… they're wearing Amaranthine colors and shields."

"Yes. I know."

"Very well." He nodded, eyes dark with black hatred and worry. "I will keep trying to secure the area. There are some soldiers who managed to slip in." He looked up. "Ah, Warden Duncan, thank you very much." Duncan?

"I made it to the family wing, but found no one," Duncan informed Gilmore, stepping up with a bloody sword in hand. I didn't think he noticed I was there with Teyrn Cousland. "I'm not sure how good that is."

"We know we can let that wing be lost, at least."

"Duncan," I called to get his attention. I wanted _someone_ to take a bit of control here. My head was spinning.

"Cleon, I'm glad I found one of you!" Duncan retorted, smiling in relief. 'One'? Wait, what about Layla and Aiden? "Bryce? What happened?"

"I misjudged and everyone is paying," Teyrn Cousland mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, old friend." He took Teyrn Cousland from me. "That's a bad wound."

"Worse are being inflicted. I'll be fine." But there was something in his eyes that made me nervous. It reminded me of Zaphikel, my first teacher in hunting, right after he'd been bitten by that poisonous snake. He'd died two hours later, long before anyone could get help. "Cleon, correct me if I am wrong, but you are fast, and elves see better in the dark than humans, yes?"

"Yes," I answered softly. Why would that matter now? "As a hunter, I was trained for stealth, speed, and the ability to see in most conditions as perfectly as possible."

"Then, forgive me, but I must ask a favor of you." He smiled at me, and I was struck by how unnerving it was that he could force one with blood pouring out of him. "Do you know Oriana and Oren? They were at the dinner."

Lady Oriana, who shared stories of her colorful home country across the sea. Little Oren, who had been so excited to meet a Dalish and begged for songs and stories when he woke up tomorrow. Yes, I knew them. "Yes."

"I need you to find them, please. They aren't trained for combat." But just them? The wife of his son and his grandson? What about his wife? What about his children who were still here?

I'd never understand shem'len. "All right. I'll see what I can do."

* * *

For a stone building, the place could burn in a hurry. Fire and rubble blocked my way as I tried my best to hunt for Lady Oriana and Oren in this mess. Everywhere I turned, though, I found either brutal fighting or painful dying. No one was untouched, and not a single person that lived in this castle wasn't fighting to protect someone or for their own lives. At some point, though, I found a staircase and wondered if I should climb up to see if the two were up there. I almost did. What stopped me was the head tumbling down. The rest of the unfortunate person's body followed soon afterwards.

"Good evening, Warden Cleon." I thought I knew the voice, but I had to look up for confirmation. Elspeth, as stone-faced as she was earlier today. She was still dressed in the fancy dress she'd worn earlier, but this time, the blue cloth was nearly completely stained crimson. She held an equally bloody sword in her right hand. "I apologize for the chaos," she continued. Her voice was even. Calm. _How_? "But I'm glad to see you're well." This was glad?

"Well, I can see why your dad didn't tell me to look for you," I noted dryly, nudging the body off to the side. "You're handling yourself just fine."

"Father is alive?"

"Last I checked."

"I see." She nodded, still not showing any hint of emotion. "You have my thanks."

"Right." Creepy. "Well, I need to find Lady Oriana and Oren, so if you-"

"Oriana is dead." She delivered the news as if it happened to someone that she hadn't known. "Oren is missing."

"Oh?"

"He wanted to avoid bedtime, so he took to playing hide and seek. Eoin went after him. Oriana and I were following when the fires started. As we ran, we were ambushed. Oriana shielded me." Ah… "I need to get to the vault."

Wait, what? "And that vault is more important than your nephew?"

She strolled down the steps, right past me. "You are free to explore the second floor. Perhaps you will see something I didn't. But I must make it to the vault."

I seriously thought about knocking her out, since she was obviously out of her mind, and carrying her to help, but there wasn't time to do that. I glanced up at the staircase again, before deciding to just follow the crazy lady. I'd just make the assumption that she'd scoured that second floor as much as she possibly could've. Besides, if that dog was with the boy, then the boy was likely as safe as possible. "So, what about this vault is important?" I asked as I caught up. She moved somewhat fast, for a shem'len, but it wasn't hard to match her pace.

"It is not the vault," she explained. "It is something stored within the vault that I need."

"What? Money?"

"Money is not worth lives. This is." Dread wolf, take this infuriating woman who wouldn't give me a straight answer! "Someone is coming."

"I don't hear anything."

"I see them." What? How could she see _anything_ through this damn smoke?

Well, apparently she could, because Aiden appeared from the smoke, coughing almost violently. I noticed absently that he had his pack. Lucky. "My apologies, but my eyes are a bit watery," he managed. "But, Cleon? Lady Elspeth?"

"Yeah, it's us," I told him. He smiled in relief. "Do you know what's going on?"

"I'm standing in front of the only two not-dead people I've seen since this blasted mess started, but that's it."

Only two? "Where's Layla?"

"I don't know. We separated because we heard yells from two different sides, and then the ceiling fell in, cutting us off from each other. Lucky we weren't in the rooms, though. We would've been trapped."

"Okay, plan, find Layla." I turned and saw Elspeth had already walked off. "Hey! You could wait a bit!" She didn't even slow down. "Creators preserve me. Come on, Aiden. She's a bit crazy."

"Right, right," he laughed off, chasing after her. "What _is_ going on?"

"We're under attack."

"From who?"

Surprisingly, it was difficult to explain. "They wear bears on their armor."

"Amaranthine then. Was Arl Howe betrayed?"

"…No."

"Ah." And suddenly, he looked like he understood everything. Glad _someone_ did. "Right then."

"There is someone up ahead," Elspeth called back. She'd paused by a corner in the hallway. "There are at least two, actually."

"Okay, how can you see through the damn smoke?" I demanded as I peered around the turn.

"I… have experience."

" _How_?"

"An assassin once tried to kill my brothers and me with fire. I had to see our way out." And she said it like it happened to someone else. "I can only tell shapes, though."

"Is someone there?" Oh, I knew that voice. "Please, can someone help?"

"Mistress Layla!" Aiden called. He knew it was her too.

"Thank the Maker! I have a wounded man here, and nothing is taking!"

"It is nice to hear others are alive," Elspeth mumbled. Still had no emotions. "We should help." And without even waiting for Aiden or me to agree, she went through the smoke.

"Assuming little thing," I muttered.

"Cleon, she's the same height as you," Aiden pointed out. I glared and he shrugged. "And she _is_ right."

"I don't take kindly to orders."

"I don't think it was." Huh? "But this is. _Move_."

"Ugh, fine." Stepping into the smoke went against every instinct I had, but I went anyway because Aiden _was_ right about us needing to move. Of course, as I stepped out of the smoke, I found Aiden nowhere behind me. "Aiden?" No answer. "Aiden, this isn't funny." Still nothing. "You can't have gotten lost. Where is there to go?" Apparently where he couldn't hear me. "Creators, I'd appreciate some _help_ , not tricks, please." Sighing, I continued down the hall, away from the smoke. Hopefully, I'd just find Aiden later. Alive. And well. Not like Tamlen. Aiden wouldn't just disappear like Tamlen, right?

I'd almost convinced myself when I found myself in a large, open area. A nexus of paths, or something. To my surprise, I also found Elspeth was sitting on the ground, a guard resting on her lap. She was gently brushing the hair out of his face. Sweat and blood matted hair out of a soot streaked, blistered face. And she was singing. Very softly. I could only really make out the tone. I wondered why. Aside from the blood on his face, he looked just fine. But then I looked at his bottom half and figured it out. The entire lower half of his body was charred, beyond the point of help.

"Do shem'len sing to the dead?" I asked softly.

She glanced up and, for a fraction of a second, I thought I saw some sort of emotion flick across her face. But it was gone in an instance. "Do Dalish sing?" she asked back.

"Yes."

"I see." She looked back to the soldier. "We don't. I'm just singing him to sleep."

"To sleep?"

"His name is Jacob. He is seventeen years old. I am singing him a lullaby to comfort him while he goes to sleep."

"You mean die."

She glanced at me again. "He doesn't know that."

"How can he not?"

"He doesn't know it's me. He thinks he's at home." What?

"Sister?" the boy croaked. Sister?

"It's okay," she whispered, turning her attention back to him. "I'm right here."

"I can't see very well, sister. Everything's blurry."

"That's sleep coming for you. Here, I'll keep singing to you."

"Okay." He smiled. "Sister, I'm a bit cold."

"I'll find a blanket for you after you go to sleep." She looked up to see me still standing there. "Layla is down the hall. She was upset that she couldn't save him."

"Yeah, she would be," I mumbled. I was so confused. "Be back."

"All right." She went back to singing and I ran down the hallway to where she said Layla had gone. I should probably find her quickly. This place was a mess and upset people were distracted, and I'd never forgive myself if something happened to her.

Thankfully, though, she wasn't far. Sorta. She'd stayed in a place where she could easily be found, at least. I saw her immediately and waved as I approached. She smiled shakily when she saw me, trying to wipe away the tears she'd been crying. "Cleon!" she yelled, waving back. She was still a distance down the hall, so it echoed weirdly. "I am so glad to see you!"

"Yeah, you too," I replied. "What are you-?" The soldier appeared from nowhere, by my sight. As if he materialized from the wall or something. And he was swinging the mace down, right at Layla, who was turning because she could see the horror on my face, but had no idea what was going on. I had to run. I had to save her. But I was too far. I could through the dagger, but what if I hit Layla instead? What do I-?

It turned out I didn't have to do anything. Because suddenly, there was another person there, protecting Layla with a shield as the mace swung down. The shield buckled, but didn't break. The protector twisted to knock the soldier off balance and landed a kick on the soldier's knee. As he fell, the protector snapped up, twisted his elbow, and then slammed a punch on his throat to collapse the windpipe. Then the protector turned and I gawked when I realized he was Nuada. And he was slipping off the shield. What was he doing?

"Get down," a voice whispered in my ear before jerking me to the ground. Just in time to avoid the shield being thrown over my head. And apparently hitting a soldier that was sneaking up on me. In the throat. "Nuada, I would prefer you not attempting to decapitate people with a shield." Oh, that was Elspeth. She'd been the one to drag me down. "Honestly, we're covered in enough blood."

"I'm sorry," Nuada laughed. I twisted and saw he was actually _smiling_. How does someone kill two people like that and _laugh_? "I didn't like the idea of him sneaking up on Cleon. Hello, there, by the way. Did you enjoy the garden?"

"Until the fire, yes," I answered shakily. I was getting past my limit of weirdness tolerance today.

"That's good to hear. How are you, milady?" He offered a hand to Layla, who took it. She wobbled as he pulled her up, but he held her steady. "You look like you've been crying."

"There… there are a lot of wounded," she mumbled. "I have been trying to help, but sometimes…"

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her. WOULD THESE SHEM'LEN STOP APOLOGIZING?! "Is it just you three?"

"Aiden is around here somewhere," I told him. "I don't know where. I lost him in the smoke." I remembered something. "Where's Iona?"

"She's dead." Creators, that was blunt. "Where were you heading?"

I pointed to Elspeth. " _She_ insisted the vault."

"Oh, that's perfect. I was heading there myself."

"I don't suppose we could get an explanation for what's so important?" I sighed. No answer. "Of course. Well, I insist we find Aiden first, since we know he's alive." He'd _better_ be, at least.

"Actually, there's one thing I want to take care of first," Layla whispered. She grabbed Elspeth's sleeve tightly. "Your wrist is broken, and your other wrist is sprained. Please, let me heal them." …What?

"Ah, yes, thank you," Elspeth murmured. She brought up her arms and Layla immediately went to work on them. "In the chaos, I had forgotten." How could you forget a broken wrist? That _hurt_.

"When did you break your wrist?" I asked.

She was quiet for a moment. "It was sometime after Oriana died, but before I picked up that sword. That's why I was wielding it in my right hand. I'm left handed."

"The strained wrist probably came from holding the sword wrong," Nuada commented, picking it up. He showed no reaction to his sister by marriage being dead. "You never did learn how to wield a sword."

"She seemed to know her way around one just fine, considering the beheaded soldier I saw," I noted dryly.

"I can wield a knife," she explained. "I just used the sword like one."

"It's no wonder you sprained it, then," Nuada sighed. "Layla, thank you for taking care of her."

"It is no trouble," Layla mumbled. She seemed entirely focused on the healing. "It is nice to see magic be useful again." She ducked her head a bit. "Thank you for saving me, though."

"Think nothing of it." He looked back down the hallway. "Is that Aiden running towards us?"

I turned and smiled when I saw Aiden. "Where did you go?" I demanded.

"Took a wrong turn," Aiden answered, slowing to a stop. He was panting. How long had he been running? "I'd ended up in the library. There's… no one there, by the way." All were dead, then. Did that include that old scholar who taught? "Well, not anymore. There were some soldiers, but now they're behind me."

"Ah, I see." …Wait. "By behind, you mean…?"

"Run."

* * *

Round and round we ran. No idea of where we were going, basically. Just away from the group of soldiers who not only seemed intent on catching us, but seemed to grow at every passing second.

"I know we don't really need a destination when we're running for our lives," I began at some point between breaths. "But is there one?"

"We're going to the vault," Nuada answered. He was the only one besides me who _could_ talk, it seemed like. "I thought we said this already."

"Oh, well, that's nice, but where is the bloody room?"

"Actually, we're right here. Turn left everyone!"

We all rushed into the room indicated and slammed the door behind us. "Okay, they seemed intent of getting in here," I grumbled. "What's so damned important?" Neither noble answered me. Just examined a door on the far wall. "I'm getting sick of not knowing stuff."

"Look at it this way, Cleon," Aiden gritted out as he held the door shut against the crowd trying to get in. "You know as much, if not more, than the rest of us."

"That's not a comforting thought."

"What about this is meant to _comfort_?" He turned his attention away from me. "Mistress Layla, is there a spell you can do to get them off of us?"

"I…" Layla began shakily. She looked terrified. "There are a few. But… but I do not want to kill them."

"Well, nice for you to take the moral high ground, because they seem intent on killing us," I snapped. She winced and I felt instantly guilty. "Layla, we need to get that crowd away from us. Even if you can only just _stun_ them, that would be great!"

"I… I know a couple of glyphs?"

"Any assistance would be lovely," Aiden noted, wincing as the door splintered right by his face. "Uh oh. This isn't going to last-"

"You know; you all could've yelled to get our attention." And suddenly Nuada was there to help hold the doors shut. "We thought you three were arguing or something," he explained. "Aiden, shift your feet and bend your knees. It'll give you more stability."

"Yes, milord."

"Strange your sister isn't helping," I mumbled.

"I imagine she's not helping for the same reason you aren't," Nuada retorted. An axe splintered the wood next to his eye, but he didn't twitch. "Great speed and agility, but not enough muscle where needed to hold something back. Besides, she's in the middle of something." Like what? "Door isn't going to last long." Stop being nonchalant.

"I have the glyphs," Layla called. "Whenever you are ready, I can cast them."

"Cleon, when we move out of the way, make sure they can't get Layla," Aiden ordered.

"Yeah, okay," I replied. "Get moving. The door is about gone anyway."

"Right. One… two…" Both he and Nuada jumped back from the door at the same time, and the door crumbled as if their weight had been all that had held it up. The soldiers outside surged forward, but Layla cast a spell. It formed on the ground in a strange, glowing shape and the soldiers seized up as if stunned. She cast another spell on top of the first 'glyph', a different one based on the pattern, and they all shot backwards as if shoved… and looked as if they'd frozen in place.

"What happened?" I asked, staring at them. They barely looked like they were breathing.

"I am not sure," Layla answered slowly. She looked confused. "I cast a glyph of paralysis and a glyph of repulsion. I have done so many times in practice. I have never seen such a reaction, though."

"Speaking of reactions, get back!" Nuada ordered. Aiden and Layla obeyed immediately, and he grabbed my arm to make sure I did too. Good thing, too, since something small was lobbed over my head to hit the center of the paralyzed group. I heard something shatter shortly before the area erupted into flames. The soldiers weren't even able to scream as the fires devoured them.

"What was that?" I asked.

"It was a combination of a fire bomb and a combustion grenade." _That_ nonchalant explanation came from Elspeth, who was sitting in the corner. "They are difficult to carry long, because of how fragile they can be," she continued.

"Where did that come from? Your blouse?"

"Wow, you've got some racy thoughts," Nuada teased as Elspeth shook her head and went to the door. "No, she made it."

"When?"

"Well, she made it here, of course. If you know what you're doing, it doesn't take long to make at all, apparently." He shrugged. "Oriana taught her."

"Why did she do that?" Layla asked softly. She was staring at the charred corpses. Aiden was holding her. "Why did you prevent me from helping them, Aiden?"

"You do realize we have to get _out_ of here too, yes?" Nuada pointed out bluntly. The smile finally fell from his face. Good. It was creepy. "They weren't going to let us."

"They were incapacitated!"

"Yes, they were, and now they're dead, like all the people they've killed."

"If we use their methods, then how are we better?"

"Welcome to war, where such thoughts don't matter." He leaned down to look her in the eye. "But I'm very curious on something, Layla. Your spell paralyzed them. Perhaps it was a more powerful one than you expected, but you specifically cast a spell of paralysis with the intention of using another spell to launch them back. Under normal circumstances, that would mean you stunned them, before sending them flying into the walls. Those walls are made of stone, meaning any impact could hurt them. In that heavy armor, it's possible they could've been permanently damaged, if not outright killed. But that's not what happened. You just gave them a very strong paralysis. That means they were barely able to breath, unable to move. They could see. They could hear. They could taste. But they couldn't react to anything. They just lied there, watching the world crawl by, unable to do anything."

"Hey, enough," I snapped, grabbing his shoulder. Layla looked ill. "Why are you telling her that?"

"It's simple really," he explained. No smile, but also no anger or regret. "Elspeth simply killed them. That is a brief bit of pain, a brief bit of fear, and then nothing but the Maker's judgment. Okay, the circumstances were a bit brutal – you should work on that dear twin – but, ultimately, she just killed them. Layla, however, gave them a very drawn out terrifying experience." There was a smile now, but it was decidedly bitter. "I wonder how different that is from the Chantry and their Rite of Tranquility." And then he turned away, like he hadn't been brutally tearing into Layla. Seriously?

"Are you all right, Mistress Layla?" Aiden asked her softly. She was tearing up, shaking, and looked incredibly ill. "Mistress Layla?"

"I'm going to punch him," I growled. "One moment."

"Later, Cleon."

"You can hit him now," Elspeth called back then. "While it needed to be said, it _was_ at an uncalled for time."

"Aren't you supposed to be on his side?" I asked. "As his sibling."

"That rule doesn't apply when he's being untactful and stupid." Well, someone would get along _fine_ with Lyna, emotionlessness aside.

"Speaking of stupid, guess who doesn't have his damn key?" Nuada sighed. Was he not affected at all? Seriously? "Maker, damn it all. You don't have yours, by chance, Elspeth?"

She shook her head. "I hadn't expected I'd need it," she mumbled. "But we must get in there. If he gets a hold of a key and gets them, Highever is in trouble." Okay, seriously, what was so important in there? "Nuada, apologize to her later, by the way."

"Hmm? Not now?"

"No, you should squirm in guilt a bit, and I doubt she'd believe you. High stress is no excuse to slip."

"It wasn't _that_. It was the combination."

"I know."

"Care to inform the rest of us?" I asked dryly. "Before I punch him."

"As I said, you can go ahead," Elspeth replied. "I need him conscious, though. He's heavy." I'd probably go through with it if she weren't saying it with such a stone face.

"Ay! my own twin sells me out!" Nuada bemoaned. "Oh, woe is me!"

I almost retorted something, but I heard a snicker and turned to see Aiden trying to hide laughter. "Are you serious?" I grumbled.

"I… do find it amusing?" Aiden sheepishly admitted.

"Thank you, my good man!" Nuada laughed, taking a bow. "Thank you! Think you can help me see if the heat has weakened the door some?"

"Yes, milord." He handed Layla to me. She was still shaking, and I felt a wave of anger hit me again.

"How can you joke with him?" I growled.

"Because he's not wrong." Aiden gave me a look. "Would you be so angry is Layla wasn't the target?" I… honestly had no answer to that. No, I did, but I just didn't want to say. Not when she was obviously hurt. "I see."

I wondered if I should say something, but decided against it. Just hugged Layla as she shook and tried not to cry. "It'll be okay," I mumbled. "It'll be okay."

Everything was silent for a while. The only noise was the other three trying, and failing, to open the door. After a while, though, Layla gasped. I looked down and saw her pull out a small rod from her pocket. "I had forgotten about this," she mumbled, staring at it. "I never took it out."

"What is that?" Aiden asked. He'd stepped back from the door and happened to catch sight of her. "A magic wand or something?"

"It is a Rod of Fire. We use it for experiments in the Tower. It has enough power to melt a lock."

"Can you use it here?" Elspeth asked. Layla hesitated. "If you can't, that's fine."

"In fact, even if you _can_ , you don't have to if you don't want to." Surprisingly, that came from Nuada. "I'm serious," he added when she just stared at him. "You don't have to."

"You just _yelled_ at me."

"I… think I more bullied than yelled, but that's a technicality on something completely different. I was talking about how your 'better' actions were actually worse. This, however, is whether you act or not. There are other ways to get a key to this place, so it's not required."

She continued stared before getting this rather angry look on her face. "You _bullied_ me. You made me feel like the most worthless, idiotic monster on the face of Thedas, and now you're being nice?! You cannot do that!"

He winced. Oh, so he _was_ feeling guilty. Good to know! "That was then and this is now?"

"I ought to use the blasted rod on you!"

"Feel free. But, if you could get that lock either on the way or first?"

"Argh, you are _impossible_!" She turned to face the door and held up the rod. "You are absolutely impossible!" A stream of fire erupted from the thing, melting the lock almost immediately. "Ugh!" Though Aiden and I exchanged a slightly worried look over the fact that an angry Layla had fire, the two nobles didn't seem bothered. They just shoved the door open and raced inside.

"Grab whatever you like," Nuada called over his shoulder as the three of us stared at the gold and gems and armor in the thing. "Wait, no, you should grab gems over gold. They're more valuable. Oh, and Aiden, grab a set of armor while you're here!"

"Do we now get an explanation for what was so important?" I demanded as the other two just stared. The two ignored me for a chest way in the back. "Hey!"

"We should take some gems until they're willing to talk," Aiden suggested.

"Why?"

"Money. What if we get separated from Master Duncan and have no access to his funds?" Ah, that made sense.

"Wait, so we are stealing?" Layla asked. She sounded almost scandalized by the thought.

"It's not stealing," Aiden corrected. "They're letting us."

"But it is their wealth."

"It's actually only a fraction," Nuada commented, walking up with some armor. "This is mostly just the stuff that wouldn't fit in the other places." What? "Well, that's excepting the family treasure, of course." He shoved the armor into Aiden's hands. "Aiden, I think this might fit you. You should try it on, and take a weapon from here while you're at it. You don't have one."

"Did they break into here too?" Okay, new voice. I was ridiculously happy to hear another living person. "Oh, I hope I'm not too late."

"Mother, we're in here," Elspeth said. "It's just us."

"Elspeth?" And suddenly Teyrna Cousland was in the doorway. I was started to see her fully armored and wielding a bow. "Nuada? Oh, thank the Maker, you two are safe." She surged forward, grabbing her children in a hug they returned. I noticed how tightly they were holding on and wondered if… if they'd been trying to keep a brave face this whole time. "Oh, my precious babies. Are you hurt? Did they touch you?"

"We're fine, Mother," Nuada replied. "These lovely people have been keeping us safe and sane." We had?

"Then I'm in their debt." Not only did she release her children to give us smiles, but she even hugged us. "Thank you. So much."

"Your husband was in the main hall last I saw him," I mumbled, more than a little startled. "He tasked me to find Oriana and Oren." Which, I hadn't done, actually. Not really. Oren was still around here somewhere.

"Did you?" I shook my head. "I see."

"Oren is still missing, Mother," Elspeth explained softly, gently touching her mother's shoulder. "Eoin is with him."

"And, he's Fergus's son. He can hold on a little longer. I know it." Her voice shook, but her demeanor was no-nonsense. "Layla, come here."

"Yes, ma'am?" Layla yelped, startled.

"We need to get you some armor. Simple cloth isn't going to block anything." She wrapped an arm around Layla's shoulders and dragged her off to a corner of the vault. I turned to see how Aiden was taking all the recent stuff, only to see Nuada and dragged him off to a different corner to help him with the armor. Oh… kay… then…

"Here." And then Elspeth was right in front of me, handing me some leather armor. "You will need better," she mumbled to the ground. "Things will likely only get harder from here."

"I…" I wanted to protest, but realized something. My armor was back in the guest rooms. The guest rooms closed off. They were gone. "Ma serannas." She merely nodded and ducked away. I noticed her picking up a sword and shield. "What's that?"

"It is the sword and shield of the family." She didn't seem to know how to hold the things. "They are as old as Highever itself."

"Is _that_ what was so important?"

"Yes, it is." She glanced at me before looking away again. "Highever has no crowns. We think them silly. We are a family of warriors, and that is how we see ourselves first. Our battlefields may differ, and our weapons are various, but we are all trained to fight." Huh? "These two things are the symbols of rulership in Highever. If… if _he_ gets them, he can claim Highever, and the law would be on his side."

"That's why you were so desperate. That's why it was worth lives." It… it actually made sense. "To protect the rest, you…"

"A Cousland does what she must to protect the whole. No matter the costs, she will do what it takes to protect the innocent who should not have to fight." She ducked her head. "Excuse me, please." She walked off and for one moment, I swore I saw tears. I turned away instead of following, changing into the armor. It was good quality, better than what I wore back with the Clan. Strange to be colored light blue, though.

I finished with the buckles around the same time Nuada finished helping Aiden and Teyrna Cousland finished with Layla. I thought little wrong with Layla's armor, but Aiden frowned. "Forgive me, your ladyship, but does her stomach not need to be protected as well?" he asked carefully. I was a bit confused. Most female hunters in the Dalish opted for baring their midriff, so it didn't seem weird that Layla was only wearing armor on her chest.

But Teyrna Cousland sighed. "It _does_ ," she agreed. "But the full leather was too heavy for her. This is the best compromising. When you get out in the field again, make her get water or something to help build up strength."

"Of course, milady."

"And you two!" She rounded on her twins. Nuada had picked up another shield, and Elspeth had slung a bow and quiver over her shoulders. "Why haven't you grabbed armor?"

"Mother, none of the armor here fits, remember?" Nuada commented lightly. "You put our sizes in one of the storage places." Storage places?

"Ill-fitting armor would be detrimental to us," Elspeth added. "We're trained."

"Right, of course," Teyrna Cousland sighed. "Can't believe I forgot that. Let's get moving, dears. I'd rather not get boxed in here. It would get very messy, very quickly."

"Messy?" I asked.

"Wounds are messy." Okay, suddenly a lot about those two nobles made sense. "Come on. I know it's been rough, but one more bit of running and then we'll be able to all work out a plan." She smiled reassuringly, and I was reminded a bit of Ashalle. "Let's go."

* * *

We arrived in the main hall to expressions of relief and joy, but it fell flat to me. I'd seen the fire. I'd seen the soldiers. As I stood there in the main hall, with everyone scrambling around, something hit me. This contradictory place that Duncan, Layla, and Aiden found so wonderful… it was dying. It was falling. Just like the Dales of the past. It was going to be lost. They had to know this. Yet they still kept fighting, and none showed fear. Had my ancestors been this insane too?

"I'm glad to see you're all well," Teyrn Cousland was saying. He was sitting in a chair, carrying a sword. There was bloody on the sword, and I wondered if he had someone been _fighting_ with that stomach wound. A stomach wound that was only bandaged, and badly at that. "The situation is going poorly, though."

"Bryce, that much is obvious," Duncan sighed from nearby. He was practically drenched in blood. Some of it was his own, based on the bandages I saw.

"Many things are obvious, Duncan. I'm stating it because there are many who refuse to see it." He looked to all of us. His wife, standing at his shoulder. His children, standing on the other side. Me, who didn't do what he asked, but smiled at anyway. Layla, who was trying to heal as many soldiers as possible. Aiden, who was helping the soldiers find more things to barricade the collapsing doors. All of the soldiers still fighting. All of the servants who chose to fight instead of flee. He looked at everyone, and I could tell he knew them all by name. He knew their families. He knew their ages. And he knew that we'd all die if something didn't change right then. "My dear, can you assist me?"

"Always, Bryce," Teyrna Cousland whispered as she helped her husband stand. I wondered briefly if my own parents had been like them, before they died. "Always."

"Thank you." He smiled at her, placed his free hand on hers, and turned his attention to the room. "I have new orders for you!" Everyone stilled at the words. "They are simple. Retreat."

There was a second of reeling silence, before the room erupted in protests. Everyone's voices blended together. "You can't be serious." "We can still fight." "We can't let those traitorous bastards win!"

But Teyrn Cousland held firm. "Highever is not this building." His voice was soft and strong. Unyielding and commanding. "Highever is not these lands." Huh? "Highever is its _people_ , my good soldiers, and I wish for you to protect them with everything you have." Its people? But… but my people had spent centuries trying to find a homeland. "The land will heal. The buildings can be rebuilt. But you can never replace a life." Yet this shem'len said different? That there was no need for it, so long as people survived? "Now, my friends and soldiers, listen to this final order of mine." I… I had trouble understanding this, truth be told. Even if I hadn't _wanted_ the homeland like the others, to hear someone so casually dismiss it was… "Stagger a retreat and protect the citizens of our beautiful home!" It was just so strange.

But not to these people. No, they just saluted, bowed, and went to work. Dividing the labor, choosing who would leave first. They shoved Layla and Aiden back to our little group with praises and thanks, and _ran_.

"Won't he feel lucky?" Elspeth murmured. I almost thought she was being sarcastic. "He gets to see a Cousland's back."

"He'll feel lucky until he realizes the trick we pulled and make him a ruler without any rights," Nuada added. He sounded almost cheerful about the prospect.

"But now we must make sure there are rallying points," Teyrn Cousland murmured. He looked at Duncan. "I know this is a large favor, but can you get Nuada and Elspeth out of here?" Duncan looked ready to protest, but Teyrn Cousland cut him off with a look. "You need to leave here now before the place is completely surrounded."

"Yes, I know that," Duncan mumbled. But I could see it in his eyes. He didn't really _want_ to leave. Because this was his friend. I could understand that so well. I'd been forced to leave Tamlen behind, after all. "Yet…"

"Well, Duncan, you've been after me for three years," Nuada commented lightly. "So, how about I join and we escort Elspeth down south? Should be good for the political nature, right?" _Stop talking so nonchalantly when your home was dying_!

"I… yes," Duncan replied, looking a bit ill and a bit startled. "Yes, that would be-"

"Perfect! Let's get moving then." Okay, wait, why wasn't he having second thoughts about leaving his dying father behind?

"Take the passage by the larder, dears," Teyrna Cousland instructed. "He doesn't know _that_ one. You'll be safe, if you move quickly."

That's when something clicked. He only requested his children. Did that mean…? "Are you not coming with us?" I found myself asking.

She shook her head. "I will stay with my husband, of course." What? "I'm no Orlesian wallflower. I have a bow, and I'll use it until my last breath to buy more time." She smiled. "Mothers are strong, Cleon. We can fight for a long, long time if that keeps our children safe." But… but…

"I love you, Mother," Nuada whispered. He was just accepting that? Seriously.

"And I love you two. Always and forever." She gathered them in her arms for one last hug before stepping away. "You'll need to run."

"Right." He knelt down to hug Teyrn Cousland, who did his best to return it. "Farewell, Father."

"Stay safe," he whispered. "I've always been so proud of you two. I know you'll be fine." He let go of Nuada, only to hug Elspeth. I noticed his weakening grip, but she didn't seem to care. "I love you, pups. Be careful."

"Goodbye," Elspeth mumbled, stepping away. She looked around a bit before calling, "Rory?" The knight appeared at her side instantly. Where had he come from? "Oren is still missing. Eoin should be with him."

"I will find and protect them both," he promised her. "Fret not, milady. They will be safe and sound when you come back."

"Thank you." I saw her smile then, and thought I also saw it shook. "Stay safe until we meet again, Rory."

"And you, milady." He bowed and turned to Nuada. "Try not to drive them insane, milord."

"I'll try," Nuada laughed. His grin was wide. "I expect some dashing tales later, over a pint or ten."

"Until then, milord." He saluted Nuada and then raced off, down the hallways. Going to look for the two, just as he was asked.

Then, suddenly, we were leaving. We were just leaving. Duncan had me by the arm. Nuada had Aiden. Elspeth had Layla. The three led the way out of the main hall, not once looking back as they ran as fast as they could. I thought about digging my heels, to go back and help, but got the feeling that Duncan would pick me up if that's what it took. So, we just ran. Ran down the burning hallways. Ran past the corpses. Ran _over_ some of them as we reached the kitchens and headed into the larder. I barely noted the old woman amidst the soldiers, a bloody cleaver revealing how she'd chosen to go out. Fighting.

As we slid into the hidden tunnel in that larder, the war cries and screams of the soldiers left behind followed us. I had a feeling I'd never forget them, no matter how hard I tried. Shem'len or not… they fought like Dalish. And that was terrifying.

* * *

A village nearby had seen the flames and opened up all its doors for anyone trying to escape. They gladly let us in when we arrived, blood streaked, soot-stained, and tired beyond belief. A few actually cried to see Nuada and Elspeth were safe. They made arrangements immediately for us to get baths and clothes and places to sleep. Most of them were asleep now, actually. At least, I thought they were. I wasn't though. I'd found a spot to sit by a window and just… watched. Watched the fires in the distance. How many were dying? How many would escape? The questions, surprisingly, weighed heavy in my head.

"Can't sleep?" I looked up as Aiden appeared beside me. "I can understand that," he murmured, staring out the window. "I keep hearing the screams and smelling the smoke."

"I haven't tried yet, so I don't know quite yet if I'll be able too," I replied. "How are the others?"

"Master Duncan appears to be asleep, but I thought I heard crying through the door. I didn't knock, of course."

"Why not?"

"Master Duncan is a commander and that means putting on a brave face no matter what. I know that much, at least."

"I see." I could understand that. "The others?"

"Mistress Layla finished crying herself to sleep an hour ago. I think she's asleep from sheer exhaustion, though." Ah. "Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth are also asleep. I'm not sure if they cried or not, but they did arrange it so that they were sharing a nest of blankets and pillows, instead of sleeping in their separate beds." Now that I could really understand. Lyna and I would share blankets when we were depressed by something. "Our hosts seemed to have retired as well. I overheard them making plans to wake up early, though, to go and help survivors."

"That's kind of them."

"Are you all right?" he asked me.

"I'm confused," I answered after a moment. "I'm angry. I really want to at least destroy something. Preferably an image of a damn bear."

"Have you?"

"No."

"Better than me." I frowned and he smiled sheepishly. "There was this glass ornament of a bear in my room."

"'Was'?"

"It's… a pile of broken glass now. Embedded in the far wall."

"Ah." I looked down at the ground. "Do you think anyone could get out of there?"

"Perhaps some of the adults. The ones who can run." He hesitated before continuing, "I doubt any children will get out, though. Particularly Lord Oren. He'd be a primary target."

"If that little boy had that giant mabari within sight, then I'm sure he's fine," I found myself saying. The thought of Oren being dead, after being so happy and full of life, was just too sickening to keep for long. "That mabari seemed worth three Dalish hunters in a fight, and intelligent enough to use his strengths."

"Perhaps you can tell Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth that in the morning. They might appreciate it."

"Maybe I will." Maybe they wouldn't be as unnerving in the morning. I still needed to punch Nuada, though.

"Regardless, I doubt this will be permanent." Seeing my questioning look, he explained further, "The King is good friends with the Couslands. It's well known that he looks… looked… to the Teyrn and Teyrna as a second set of parents, and viewed all of their children as siblings. He won't stand for it. Few in that army will, actually. That's a lot of people to anger at once."

"Are you so certain that man didn't plan for it?" I asked. Aiden was silent. "You're not."

"I have to hope, Cleon." His voice was soft. "I have to hope this can be fixed. That is an entire city at the mercy of a madman. Humans might fare well, but elves? Elves never do." He turned away. "Are you coming to bed, Cleon? It's late, and we've an early morning."

"In a bit," I muttered, looking back out the window. "Someone has to witness the fires dying." And if I saw that despicable man again, if he survived our encounter… well, I'd probably let Nuada or Elspeth get first crack, if I _had_ to be fair. But if I didn't? Oh, I was going to rip him apart. Elgar'nan lend us the strength to do it, if the need arises.

"Very well. Just get some rest." I nodded my head and tried to wave, only to realize my right arm was completely numb and unmoving. Again? I was getting tired of this. It hadn't happened during a fight, yet, thank the Creators, but still. If it did, I would be in a lot of trouble.

"Mythal, I ask for your protection until I can take this cure." I whispered, staring at the fire. "I ask for your protection of the shemlen who might still be alive. And for those who have passed on, Falon'Din, I ask you guide them gently to rest." Because… because they had been _good_ shemlen, and the world had too few already. "Blessed Creators, please hear my whispered prayers."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're at the last of the origins! Yay? I changed up a few things here, nothing big. Yet. There will be changes later in the story that are born from the slight changes here. I promise you all that. Cleon as narrator here was fun, truth be told, because he's _so_ used to humans like Howe, not the Couslands. And… god, this was a long chapter. How did this origin end up so long?  
>  I think it's stated somewhere, can't quite remember, where elves, and dwarves, have better night vision than humans, and their eyes actually glint in the dark, like a cat's. Glyph of Paralysis + Glyph of Repulsion is actually a spell combo in Origins. Paralysis explosion. Very useful. For those wondering, yes, Nuada and Layla are being paired. I just wanted them to have a different beginning than the other three couples, something not hard, given their personalities.
> 
> Next Chapter – we're starting in on some traveling chapters again. Layla POV, on the race down to Ostagar. See you then.


	14. Chapter 13) Discomfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All right, one of the traveling to Ostagar chapters that isn't an Origin. Yay. We're moving along with the plot! Sorry it's not that great. I'm horribly tired, but I wanted to get a chapter out, since it's been a bit. And it's short, because there have been too many long chapters recently.
> 
> Next Chapter – Redcliffe gets a cameo in Aiden's POV.

**Chapter 13) Discomfort**

_Layla POV_

* * *

_We were all stretching. Finn and I exchanged a grimace as the teachers walked us through it. Neither of us enjoyed this 'daily exercise' thing the senior mages and templars insisted we do. We would both rather be inside, reading about glorious places and magic. Instead, though, we were out in the hot, horrid sun, preparing for 'swimming lessons' or something ridiculous like that._

_There was a splash, suddenly, and we all turned to see Anders had jumped into the lake before the rest of us. It took us two seconds to realize he was swimming for the shoreline in the distance. I could not help but laugh when I realized it, especially when the templars started racing around to get boats._

" _I hope this means an end to this nonsense," Finn sighed as they herded us inside. "It's dirty outside."_

" _I hope so too," I agreed, even as our fellows muttered and grumbled. "The Tower is much safer than the outside world."_

_"Definitely more comfortable inside."_

* * *

The armor felt uncomfortable. It was just a chest piece, buckled over my robes, with a shoulder guard. But it felt uncomfortable nonetheless. It was heavy and awkward. I had to get help each morning with the buckles. I almost felt like taking it off and throwing it into a lake, but… but Teryna Cousland had given it to me. She had given it to me, so that I could be protected, and I could not let it go.

I had liked her. She was smiling and gentle. She was warm and kind. She reminded me a little of Wynne. But, mostly, she reminded me of those vague memories of my own mother, before I had been taken into the Circle. But she was gone, now. Teryna Cousland had stayed behind while we ran, and she was gone. She was, likely, dead. Many of the people we left behind were dead.

I could not understand it. I simply could not understand it. How could someone who had laughed, smiled, and joked with the family betray them that very night? He had teased. He had reassured. Then, he had tried to kill them all. How could someone do that? Not even Jowan had sunk that low.

It was in that confused and depressed mood that I saw the Tower on the horizon. It had been many, many years since I had last seen the Tower like this. Alluring and beautiful, it was so close yet so far. I could just reach out and touch it. Of course, it was but an optical illusion, but I so wanted it to be true. I wanted to just race for the Tower, to _home_. I wanted to return to flirting shyly with Cullen. I wanted Neria's teasing and songs. I wanted Anders's sarcasm and gentle protection. I wanted Finn's complaints of dirt. I wanted Irving's reassurances and lessons. I wanted Wynne's hugs and advice. I would even give something to see _Jowan_ again, if only to have a tiny bit of normality again. I did not have it here.

Commander Duncan was terse and distant now. I could see the red eyes and dried tears, and knew he had been crying while we all slept. I did not really understand why he hid them, though. There were no templars, or anyone like templars. Not one of us would exploit that weakness. Of course, he was not the only one who hid. Elspeth did as well. While she had always seemed cold and aloof in the castle, now she seemed almost like a statue that could breath. No, she was harder than stone. Eleni the statue was more expressive than her. Nothing flitted across her face as we raced down the path. The only movement on her at all was the plain dress the villagers lent her. In contrast, though, her twin was entirely _too_ animated. Dressed in common clothing like his sister, Nuada laughed and joked like nothing had happened. He smiled frequently and left me bewildered and confused with his flirtations. He seemed to ignore the glares and stares Cleon and Aiden threw his way, continuing to act almost like a fool. Commander Duncan and Elspeth, though, seemed to take it in stride, like they thought nothing was strange. It only served confused me more. His entire family was _dead_ , yet he was smiling?

I tended to stay close to Cleon or Aiden nowadays and avoided the other three. Only they reacted in ways I could understand. Cleon was angry and confused. Aiden was sad and supporting. I knew those two things. I could understand those two things. I could not understand smiling or hiding. I hated not being able to comprehend something, but I also did not want to take the time to learn just yet. I was tired. I was close to tears. I was confused.

I wished I never gone to Highever, or the Alienage in Denerim. In fact, I wished I had never left the Tower at all.

"Layla?" I turned and saw Cleon waiting for me. The others had gone ahead. I had not even realized I had stopped to stare at the Tower still on the horizon. It tempted me with everything I wanted. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

I hesitated before answering. "It is nothing, Cleon." My voice shook. "We should catch up with the others."

"Agreed."

* * *

A storm crashed and screamed outside when we finally stumbled into a random village's inn. The staff was cheerful and kind, immediately whisking us up to rooms for baths and clean clothes. I was startled by how rough the fabric was. I had always assumed the clothes they gave us in the Tower were common, but perhaps they were not after all.

After changing, we all gathered at a table to eat. Well, most of us did. Commander Duncan chose to chat with the innkeeper instead, and no one questioned it. None of us said a word once the food was served. I could not tell if it was because we were all so tired or if we all just no longer knew how to act around each other in light of everything.

"Why is it that Duncan always gets a room alone?" Cleon asked as after a moment. I was not sure if he was truly curious or if he just wanted something to talk about. The silence was overbearing.

"Uncle Duncan has a bad habit of assuming someone waking him up in the middle of the night is an assassin or darkspawn," Nuada explained easily. "He's also an incredibly light sleeper, so even someone rolling over in their sleep is likely to wake him up. When you combine the two, it leads to messy stains on the floorboard. He gets his own room to avoid situations like that. Innkeepers don't look kindly on blood in rooms. It takes days to clean."

"What _are_ the room assignments?" Aiden wondered. He and Elspeth were the only ones not squirming at the nonchalant explanation Nuada gave. "I forgot to ask Master Duncan."

"You, Nuada, and I are rooming together," Elspeth answered. As always, she was far too calm. "Cleon and Layla have the third room."

"If I remember right, this is the inn with amazing food and service, but not exactly the best mattresses," Nuada added thoughtfully. "I'd recommend just making a sleeping nest on the floor and sharing. We're likely to get a bit of a chill with the rain anyway."

"How would you know the state of the mattresses?" Cleon sighed. "Wouldn't you want to stay with some local lord?"

"The closest is Redcliffe, a day and a half away. Besides, this puts money into the local economy. That helps business, and keeps the village running."

"The Tower is closer," I mumbled without really thinking about it.

"Sadly, the Tower doesn't let people stay," Nuada replied without a pause. "There _is_ the 'Spoiled Princess' on the coast there, but that place has even worse mattresses. It's more of a 'stop and rest' place than this. Do you remember that big storm that led to us being trapped there, Elspeth?"

"That was when we met that escaping mage, yes?" Elspeth mused. I started at the mention of that. "He was quite amusing. Anders, I believe he was called."

"When was this?" I demanded, almost rising from my seat. The others looked startled. "Oh, my apologies, but…"

"This would've been about four or five years ago," Nuada answered me after a moment. "Cailan was finishing up a tour of Fereldan to let the people see their new king. We were on our way to Redcliffe to greet him and got caught." He smiled softly. "Father was grumbling the whole time about how the soldiers weren't securing the boats properly and Mother kept scolding them the soldiers about not drying off. It was hilarious!" I could only stare as he happily talked about his parents. How could he do that, when they _were likely dead_? "Do I have something on my face, Layla?"

Huh? "P-pardon?"

"You're staring." He grinned and I felt myself flush at how rude I was being. "So, is there something on my face?"

"Lots of things," Cleon deadpanned. "Nose, eyes, mouth. Bit of this odd shadow on your face."

"That's a beard, Cleon," Aiden explained. "Humans grow hair on their face."

"Shem'len are weird."

"Take it from our perspective!" Nuada laughed. "You elves never have to shave your face in the morning, and your eyes glint in the dark! You're like cats!"

"Is there something wrong with cats?" I asked with a pout. I missed Mister Wiggums terribly.

"They ignore you until they want something, and then they sit on your head," Elspeth noted. "I prefer dogs. They protect… things."

"Dogs also get their smell all over you," Nuada joked. "It helps you blend in with the natural environment."

"Dog helps to blend in?" Cleon summarized dryly. "It's more of wet dog."

"Oh, you don't want to be near a wet dog. They decide that you need a bath too and get you soaked!"

"Like Eoin?" Aiden asked softly. His tone was polite, but his eyes were sharp, like he was figuring something out.

There was a split second where I thought Nuada's smile faltered, but then it was back as bright as ever. "Giving a mabari a bath is a nightmare," he answered. "You have to bribe them a _lot_."

"Eoin would behave for us, though," Elspeth added. Her voice was steady and neutral. "We made it a game." She looked up from her food then. "Do we need to hail the waitress? Everyone seems to be done eating, with all this talking."

There were no more attempts to talk as we finished eating, and I could not tell if the silence was awkward or not.

* * *

Nuada had been right about the mattresses. They were hard and lumpy. Cleon immediately set about making a sleeping space on the floor. "You mind sharing the blankets?" he asked me.

"That is fine," I reassured, poking at one of the mounds in the bed. It felt like a rock. "How do they expect anyone to sleep here?"

"No clue. Guess that's something we can ask later." Finished with the blankets, he flopped down. "Not bad. Definitely better than that thing they called a bed."

I crawled under the covers next to him and silently agreed with his assessment. "Cleon?"

"Yeah?"

"Was it really him that betrayed?" I should not have asked, but I could not help it.

Still, he answered me. "Yeah, it was." His voice was soft and rough. It was like the words tried to strangle him as he said them. "It was."

"That does not make sense!" I heard myself half-shriek. "He was smiling at them! He was teasing!"

"Layla, keep it down."

"Then there are those three who react in ways I do not understand! I understand you and Aiden far more than them, despite being human!"

"Layla, the walls aren't that thick."

Ah… "My apologies," I mumbled. "I… I do not like not understanding something."

"Welcome to my life since leaving the Clan," he snarked. I slumped. "Hey, you okay?"

"No. Are any of us?"

"Well, I've no clue about the two nobles. But Aiden states he's certain Duncan cries when he's alone." Yes, I could understand _that_. I could not understand why he hid. "I'm more than half convinced the Dread Wolf just played a grand trick on me, and I don't like it. Aiden is locking away all his anger because he thinks it's not healthy, but I can tell he's pissed and upset over what happened."

"I alternate between crying and screaming. Why did you ask?"

"Because unlike Aiden and me, you're acting like someone just ripped open a recently closed wound." I just stared and he shrugged. "Trust me. I know about ripping open wounds. That hurts even more than the first wound." I ducked my head to avoid looking at him. "So?"

It was a while before I could reply. Even then, my voice never went higher than a whisper. "I was betrayed not long ago." He nodded like he had expected it. "Well, I consider it a betrayal, at least. One of my best friends was a blood mage. He lied to both his lover and me about it as he made plans to escape. He enlisted my help to break his phylactery. With it destroyed, he would never be found by templars."

"Was it destroyed?"

"Yes, it was. I let him."

"What happened then?"

"…I had gone in with the intention of helping him break the phylactery, but not necessarily to let him escape, so, we were surrounded."

"That's a bit crafty of you."

"It was not my idea, but Irving's. He suggested it, so that a proper investigation to clear Jowan of blood magic charges could be conducted. At least, that was what I thought."

"Why not just help him?"

"I… I had to choose," I whispered, hiding my face in my knees. "If I helped him, I would betray Irving and the Circle. That is my family. If I did not help him, though, I would be betraying him, who was my brother."

"What sort of idiot makes you choose between that?"

"Jowan did." I sighed. "Maybe, though, I betrayed him too. I do not know anymore, really."

"So, you arranged for there to be an escort?" he prompted, likely to keep the story going. That was good. I was about to break down crying.

"I suppose." My voice shook. "Irving just told me to play along. I did, and let Jowan destroy his phylactery. I could help them escape at a different time, when things were not so frantic."

"Then what happened?"

"I learned I was wrong to trust him. He lied to Lily and me about using blood magic. He harmed a lot of people." Then, he ran. He ran far away and I hoped he never, ever returned. "Why do people do that?"

"Betray?" I nodded. "I don't know. Dalish only know it from history."

"I see."

"With luck, though, we won't experience it again." He smiled reassuringly. "All right?"

"I would like that. This is a very sick feeling." Someone knocked then. Thank you, Maker, for your timing. "Come in?"

The door cracked open and Aiden poked his head in. "You two settled in?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, we're fine," Cleon reassured. I nodded in agreement, too tired to do anything else now. "Everything good on your end?"

"My lord and lady are already asleep, actually." They were? "Oh, there is one thing, though."

"What is it?"

"I think I figured out what is going on with Lord Nuada." Oh? "Denial."

Both Cleon and I just stared for a while. "What do you mean?" I finally asked.

"Just that," he answered. "He's in denial."

"How can you _deny_ that happened?"

"If you try very hard, you can do anything." I had no answer to that. "Good night." Aiden left then, shutting the door behind him. Neither Cleon nor I said anything. Perhaps he was just as confused as I was. Everything was just so confusing now. Things had been so much simpler in the Tower. I wanted to go back. But I doubted I could.

"Cleon?" I whispered.

His reply was just as soft. "Yeah?"

"Can… do you mind if I held your hand while I fall asleep?" I had done that often, back at the Tower, with Neria.

"Sure." He offered his and I grasped it tightly as I squirmed under the covers. It was calloused, but warm. "Get some rest."

"I will try. May the Maker give you pleasant dreams."

"And the Creators watch over you in yours."

* * *


	15. Chapter 14) Red

**Chapter 14) Red**

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_I ran through the marketplace, carrying a barrel of… something. I honestly wasn't sure. It was just something the cook claimed was needed, and I was the only one available that she trusted to fetch it and not get distracted. Of course, the crush of people were slowing me down far more than a distraction would. So long as she didn't hit me, though, it would all be well._

" _Oh, pardon me!" someone laughed as I bumped into him. I glanced and paled when I realized I was looking at Bann Teagan. There must be a hunt coming up in the castle. He rarely appeared at another time. "Wait, you're carrying that huge thing by yourself?"_

" _Yes, milord," I answered automatically, looking for a way to escape. I had to get back to the estate. "If you'll excuse me, milord."_

" _Oh, right, sorry. Ah, Eamon, there you are!" He turned to greet his older brother, and I wondered just what had brought the two brothers out here in the common market. But it didn't matter, really. I had an errand to complete._

* * *

Redcliffe. Garrison of the south. I honestly wasn't sure if it was named for the red soil around these parts, or for the copious bloodshed the area had suffered as enemies broke themselves on the fortress-castle. Old, as old as Highever, it has stood as the frontline of defense for centuries. The village itself, far younger, was a cheerful enough place, though.

"Welcome, welcome!" the innkeeper greeted as we all settled into the local tavern. Master Duncan had decided we'd stop early today. Something about Cleon's health. He looked fine, aside from more tripping troubles. …Right, that was _probably_ a side effect of whatever was infecting him. I felt a bit of annoyance creep through as I remembered how I seemed to be the only one who didn't know what was going on with him, but I tucked it back. This was a place of cheer. "What'll you have?"

"Ale, my good man!" Lord Nuada laughed, grinning broadly and winking at some of the serving girls. "And plenty of it!"

"Rooms would also be nice," Master Duncan cut in. Despite the light tone, I could see how tense he held himself. "If not here, then somewhere close?"

"Of course, of course," the innkeeper agreed. His eyes glittered greedily. Oh, joy. Merchants. I hated merchants. "My name is Lloyd. I'm the proprietor of this establishment." Joy. "This way, this way."

"Why are there soldiers here?" Cleon whispered into my ear as we were led through the bustling tavern. He was pale, but fine. "Highever sent _everyone_." And paid for it. "Why haven't they?"

"King Cailan and Arl Eamon had a falling out a few months ago," I answered after a moment. "Probably related to that."

"They would let a quarrel decide something like that?"

"Perhaps. I don't know for sure, obviously."

"Warden Duncan, is it?" That voice belonged to a gravel-voice man with a beard. "The name's Murdock," he introduced, putting out his hand for a shake. Master Duncan returned the gesture immediately. "I'm the Mayor here. I was wondering if you had any news to share."

"Only a little," Master Duncan hedged easily. He was good at hiding information. "I've been traveling, hunting for recruits. I can give you a bit from Denerim, though." Uh oh.

"Sure, that would be nice," Mayor Murdock laughed. "Last bit of information we got is from Dwyn, who got this sword from a merchant. Claims it's from an ox-horn."

"What is an ox-horn?" Mistress Layla asked softly. She looked drained. Honestly, I was worried _she_ was getting sick, not Cleon.

"Likely, it's a qunari," Lady Elspeth answered. Stone-faced and quiet likely always. "The books say most have horns."

"The question then becomes what they're doing this far south," Lord Nuada mused with a smile. I saw Mistress Layla flinch at it. "Well, it seems like there are other things going on besides the Blight."

"Like political betrayals, milord?" I phrased my words as a question, but we both knew it wasn't. It was worth seeing the smile falter for a second. I couldn't understand why he chose to deal with grief like this, but it seemed to be rather common, given how Master Duncan reacted to it.

The smile, however, was back in place by the time he replied. "Sure, I'll bet this is the perfect time for some people."

"I know that voice. Nuada?" I recognized the speaker as soon as he broke through the small crowd. Bann Teagan, younger brother of the late Queen Rowan and Arl Eamon. He was surprisingly well-liked, for all that he avoided politics. He was also noted to being a skilled swordsman and hunter, who could give even Teyrn Loghain a run for his money if the need arose. "Hey there!" he laughed, clapping Lord Nuada on the back and kissing Lady Elspeth's hand. "Certainly didn't expect to see you here. Fergus left just a few days ago. He said you two were staying at Highever Castle."

"Well, there was a change of plans," Lord Nuada dismissed cheerfully. "I'm joining the Wardens, and Elspeth is delivering a message for Father." Yeah, a message that there was a traitor.

Bann Teagan's face fell. "Is Bryce not well? I know he's been having ill health recently."

"Of course he is!" If I ever needed more proof that Lord Nuada was in complete denial, I had it right here. "Nothing keeps him down for long!"

"I know. He's always been there when you needed him." Well, not anymore. "Hence my confusion."

"Something unexpected happened at the castle," Lady Elspeth whispered. Her face was passive like always. "That's all."

"Well, I hope everything turns out well," Bann Teagan sighed. "I'd hate for anything to have happened to Bryce or Elanor. They're both wonderful and dear friends." Yes, they were. Kind, fair, and just. Stronger than anything, or so everyone thought. Yet, in the space of a night, they were betrayed and massacred. The only two survivors were right here. One acting like nothing had happened and the other showing nothing I could read.

"Teagan, you bolted in here quick. What's all the ruckus?" The boisterous cheer of the room died down slightly as Arl Eamon stepped into the tavern. Almost everyone either saluted or bowed. I couldn't remember if he was well loved or not by the people, but I knew he was well respected, and that came across clear. "Oh, Nuada, Elspeth," he greeted with a soft smile. "Fergus was here not long ago. If I'd known you were coming, I'd have gotten rooms prepared in the castle for you."

"It's no trouble, Eamon," Lord Nuada laughed. "How are Isolde and Connor?"

"Isolde is distressed, sadly." He sighed heavily. "Connor has been ill."

The smile fell from Lord Nuada's face. "Do you know the symptoms?"

"Pale, mostly, and seeing things that aren't there. I wanted to send for a healer from the Tower, but Isolde refuses to let any mage get near him for some reason."

"Is it possible he is a mage?" Mistress Layla asked out of the blue. She looked thoughtful and reassuring. "Has he done anything strange recently? Magic typically shows itself around puberty, though it can be younger."

"Well, and do forgive me, Lady Mage, but I hope that is not the case." Arl Eamon sighed. "Connor is my only son. I would not like to see him grow up in another place."

"You would give up your son?" Cleon demanded. I put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "Your own son?"

"The law exists for everyone, not just people without titles," Arl Eamon answered softly. "Besides, if he's hallucinating because of his magic, then would it not be best for him to be with people who can actually help him?"

"That is why I love the Circle," Mistress Layla chimed in with a smile. "All of us can study and practice together, and learn how to control our power."

"Precisely." He smiled then. "If he has magic, I will send him to the Tower, for his sake, not my own."

"There is a mage in the Tower, Finn, who regularly gets care packages and visits from his family. I am certain you would be able to as well."

"Providing he doesn't hate me for sending him away, like my… ward did." Huh? "Regardless, Duncan, since you are here, do you mind if I talk to you?"

"Of course not, Arl Eamon," Master Duncan answered, even as the rest of us wondered what was going on. "Where to?"

"Well, perhaps outside. If we can make it out there."

"Ward?" Cleon asked as Master Duncan and Arl Eamon hunted for an easy way through the crowd. "What's a 'ward'?"

"It means someone he took in, but wasn't related to, basically," Lord Nuada answered. "I'd _heard_ he had one, but I never met him. We were still out of the country then. Elspeth, you know anything?"

"No, I'm afraid not much more than that," she muttered. Was that annoyance in her tone? "I never asked. I wished I did. I only know there were rumors the boy was rumored to be Eamon's bastard son, and Isolde was furious."

"She would be, the bitch. Whoops, was that out loud?"

"Yes, but Eamon didn't hear you."

"Oh, that's good to know."

"I'm getting tired of asking things," Cleon grumbled. "Who?"

"Arlessa Isolde, wife of Arl Eamon," I answered. I noticed Lady Elspeth whisper something in Mistress Layla's ear and the two disappeared into the back rooms. What? "She's Orelsian, but it's a love match. I think."

"What does that have anything to do with it?"

"Humans will marry for political reasons," Lord Nuada explained. "It's even more true for nobles."

"That's _nonsense!_ " Cleon snapped.

"We're pawns." No one should say that with a smile. "That's all."

"Okay, you're being creepy again. Aiden, make him stop being creepy."

"What?" I yelped. "Why am I getting involved?"

"Teagan, are you returning to the castle?" I heard Arl Eamon call. I turned and saw him near the door with Master Duncan.

"No, I think I'll stay here a while, Eamon," Bann Teagan laughed. I'd almost forgotten he was here. "Though, there's still a bit of daylight. Cleon, was it?"

"Ah, yes?" Cleon replied automatically.

"You're Dalish, right?"

"Yes?"

"Fancy a spar?" He grinned. "I've heard all sorts of legends about the skill of Dalish hunters." Cleon's face lit up in a smile. "I'd love to test it out for myself."

"I'm afraid, Bann Teagan, Cleon is actually suffering from some ill health," Master Duncan cut in before Cleon could reply. Cleon grimaced and looked away. "If you want to spar, though, might I recommend Aiden? I doubt you want to have a go with Nuada again."

"No, thank you!" Bann Teagan laughed. "I like my arms unbroken." He turned to me, smiling. "However, I would like that spar, if you're willing."

"If that is your will, milord," I replied automatically, as I tried to figure out what just happened. Oh, Maker, what was I being thrown into now?

* * *

"You should work on timing your blows," Bann Teagan laughed as we slowly stretched and made our way back to the tavern. We had sparred near the windmill, being the only piece of flat land that wasn't in front of the Chantry. "Cleaving weapons like that telepath their movements."

"I noticed, milord," I gasped out. I figured out why Master Duncan had wanted _me_ to spar, instead of just refusing. I was strong, but not very skilled, and it showed when I fought someone truly competent and expecting me to know what end of a sword to hold. "I thank you for the lesson."

"Oh, don't be so formal. Not here, at least. You nearly gave me a concussion."

"My apologies."

"You can talk to Elspeth about timing. Or get someone to just teach you." He grinned. "Thank you for the spar, though. Eamon can't keep up nowadays."

"It was my honor, milord."

"Formalities, formalities. Here, I'll buy you a drink."

"I don't drink, milord." Unless we were at an Alienage celebration and I didn't have work the next day, in which case I always seemed to be the last one drinking.

"Oh, one pint won't do you harm!" He clapped me on the back as we entered the tavern. "Here, I'll be back in one bit."

"Ah, yes, milord." As he disappeared ino the crowd, I looked around the _still_ bustling tavern. Arl Eamon and Master Duncan weren't back yet, and there was no sign of Lady Elspeth and Mistress Layla. Simply Lord Nuada flirting with a red-haired waitress and Cleon choking on something.

"What happened while we were gone?" I asked, patting Cleon on the back. "Please tell me you didn't poison him."

"Poison isn't my thing," Lord Nuada teased. "Bella here just gave Cleon a sample of the best ale."

"It doesn't seem to agree with him." I tried to keep my tone polite, but I couldn't keep the chuckle out of it.

"It's all right," the waitress chortled with a bright smile. I guessed she was 'Bella'. "Not many people can keep it down when it's their first."

"Dread Wolf take all of you," Cleon growled. " _All of you_."

"We love you too, Cleon," Nuada teased. "What do I owe you, Bella?"

"Lloyd will give you the fat bill in the morning," she sighed. "But I'll take the smiles and compliments for free. Been a while since I heard genuine ones."

"Oh, any time." She sashayed off and Nuada sighed. "She should be the one in charge."

"Oh?" I commented. "Why?"

"She's intelligent and moral," he answered immediately. "She practically runs the place anyway. Lloyd just profits from it, and likely does things I don't want to think about as killing people is bad when you're not in a war." Ah… "Oh, Aiden, can you do me a favor?"

"Yes, milord?"

"Elspeth and Layla haven't come out of that back hall yet. You mind checking on them? Layla isn't comfortable around me." Oh, so he noticed. "Cleon is too busy choking on his inability to hold alcohol."

"Nuada, I'm going to murder you!" Cleon snapped, launching himself across the table to get at Nuada. I just left them to it, ignoring the commotion. Some exercise would do them both good, yes? So long as they didn't _actually_ kill each other, and I had faith in their sense. Most of the time.

Shaking my head, I wandered into the hallway and hunted around for anything that would indicate there was anything living back here. The first noise that caught my ear was giggling. _Giggling._ I hunted around until I noticed a door slightly ajar. I nudged the door open, keeping silent as I saw the two women sitting in front of a mirror. The two seemed to actually be having fun.

"Lady Elspeth-" Mistress Layla began, smiling. I noticed the eye shadow and blush and realized what was going on.

"Please, call me 'Elspeth'," Lady Elspeth corrected. She brandished a small brush. I focused on the red at the tip of it. Paint, but I swore it looked like… "Do keep still, though."

"Oh, I am sorry." She was still smiling. "Still, you must be a mage. I look beautiful, instead of pretty."

"A trick I learned abroad is to use make-up to enhance what is already there. Now, please, hold still so I can finish." She carefully painted Mistress Layla's lips red.

Red.

A crying soldiers with tears of red. A fighting soldier drenched in red. A helpless child lying in red. A torn apart woman dripping red.

Red. Red.

The walls crying red. The widows glittering red. The weapons singing red. The air filled with red.

Red. Red. Red. So much _red_.

"Aiden?" I gasped and Lady Elspeth was in front of me. My scattered mind took note of two things. One, she was a bit taller than me. Two, like Mistress Layla, she was wearing make-up. "You looked as if you were caught in a nightmare," she whispered, touching my face. "Are you well?"

"Yes, milady." My reply was automatic. "I apologize."

"What is there to apologize for? You aren't the first I've seen with battle dreams." I was startled by her smile. Movement on stone. "Now, are you truly well?"

"Yes, milady."

"I will take you at your word." She turned away. "Layla, you can stop staring at your reflection, now."

"But I look nice," Mistress Layla laughed. She spun from the mirror, smiling at me. I was glad to see her lip paint was pink, not red. "Aiden, you okay? Elspeth said you had been there for a bit."

"You seemed to be having fun," I replied. It wasn't a lie. "I didn't want to interrupt." That also wasn't really a lie. "Have you never worn make up before, Mistress Layla?"

"No, I have not. Most mages who wear it in the Circle wore _far_ too much." She scrunched up her nose in disgust. "They used clashing colors too." Her face fell. "Besides, most mages refused to touch faces. The closest a lot got were hands or hair."

"Why?"

"When you were a child, you were afraid of accidentally casting a spell at the wrong time." She winced at that, like something had happened in the past to her. "When you were older, though, it was too intimate. You had to be careful. Even friendships could be considered a risk."

"For what?"

"Not all templars are kind."

"The Chantry fails in its teaching," Lady Elspeth declared softly. Her face was passive again. "Of course, that isn't a surprise."

Mistress Layla stared. "B-but the Maker is fair and-"

"If the Maker is fair, then explain what happened in Highever to me." The good cheer vanished in an instance. Frozen by her tone and stare. "Well?"

"I…"

"…" And, just like that, the ice was gone. "No, my apologies. I shouldn't have said anything." She strode out the room. "Come, we should-"

"Perhaps He needed you and Nuada to go to Ostagar!" Mistress Layla blurted. I felt like I was in the middle of a crossfire when Lady Elspeth turned back. "Perhaps Andraste needed you there," she continued far more softly. "They see a… a bigger picture than either of us."

"If that's true, I wish a different way was chosen." She glanced at me. "What do you think, Aiden?"

"I…" I began, trying to think. The Chantry… I tended to avoid thinking about it, because… "I think there are some good people in the Chantry?"

"I will take you at your word." And the way she said made me think she knew everything that I didn't say. "Shall we join the others?"

"Yes, I'd like that, milady." Anything away from this awkward conversation.

* * *

It was like stepping into another world, returning to the main room. Loud and boisterous. Cheerful. "Taverns never change," Lady Elspeth commented as we shifted through the crowd. "They're the same wherever you go."

"Even in Orlais, milady?" I asked, helping Mistress Layla as a drunk nearly bowled her over.

"Yes, they are."

"Orlais is so fancy in the books," Mistress Layla protested. "Ack!" I had to pick her up to prevent someone's drink from sloshing on her head. "Thank you."

"No problem," I reassured. "Ah, I think I found them?"

Sure enough, we were "Hey, there!" Bann Teagan called, lifting his own mug of ale. "Over here, you three!"

"Thank the Maker we finally found you," Mistress Layla breathed, stumbling over to the table. "It is so crowded."

"People have coin, miss, so they choose to spend it!" He grinned and handed me my own mug with a wink. I couldn't help but smile in response. "You weren't wearing make-up earlier, were you?"

"I found a make-up kit," Lady Elspeth explained with a small smile. "I… forgot mine."

"Like how Nuada forgot his shaving kit?"

"Yes, and thank you for the spare, Teagan," Lord Nuada laughed. He was always laughing, always cheerful. "But there's something far more important to comment on."

"Oh?"

"Layla, you look incredible."

"Th-thank you," Mistress Layla murmured. She was blushing red, and I had to turn away as my head morphed it to face streaming red for some reason. "Elspeth is a miracle worker."

"My sister is many things, but not a miracle worker." Lord Nuada grinned. "At least, she isn't when it comes to makeup. Arrows are another story."

"O-oh…"

"Nuada, what are you doing?" Cleon growled then, glaring at the lord. "Well?"

"I'm paying Layla a compliment," Lord Nuada answered innocently. "I thought that was obvious."

"Aren't you seeing that waitress girl later in your room?"

"Well, I don't think it'll be in _my_ room. I'm sharing with Aiden and Elspeth again, likely, and it would be so rude."

"I thank you, milord," I couldn't help but deadpan. He just grinned in reply. "Cleon, that was an out of the blue question, though."

"It was not," Cleon retorted. "It's been bothering me for days."

"Oh, dear Cleon, if you're _jealous_ …" Lord Nuada began.

"You are _not_ my type."

"Alack, alay, woe it me!"

"I see some things never change," Bann Teagan laughed. "But really, you three. Sit down. Or would you rather go on to bed? You look tired."

"And they should enjoy the beds while they can," Master Duncan declared as he stepped up to the table. Arl Eamon was nowhere in sight. "This will be the last inn we're staying at."

"Thank the Creators," Cleon muttered.

At almost the same time, Mistress Layla groaned, "Andraste, help me."

"Is there something wrong with Lothering?" Lord Nuada asked. He seemed to take the announcement with easy cheer. As always.

"Speed, mainly," Master Duncan answered. "We'll just go straight past it. We're running out of time."

"Well, I guess I'd better enjoy the beer while I can. Master Lloyd, another pint, please!"

"Nuada, we're not getting drunk here," Lady Elspeth scolded.

"I know how many I can hold," Lord Nuada protested. "I'm not a lightweight like Cleon here."

"I can take it," Cleon growled. "I just think it's disgusting."

"Sure, sure."

"Well, I know how to settle this," Bann Teagan noted slyly. "A drinking contest!"

"Here, here!"

"Fine," Cleon spat. "We'll do this." Oh, dear Maker.

Master Duncan sighed, but smiled at the antics. "You'll have to march even with a hangover," he warned. "Remember that."

"Aiden, do you want to join in?" Lord Nuada asked. I shook my head. "All right. Maybe next time."

"I believe Layla and I shall stay near you," Lady Elspeth muttered. I thought I caught a few signs of annoyance, but I wasn't sure. "Is that all right?"

"Of course, milady," I replied. "I'm not really sure what happened."

"Nuada is being Nuada."

"Ah."

"Must we camp?" Mistress Layla complained. She looked revitalized by all the cheer, even if she was as confused by the drinking contest as Cleon. Did mages not drink? "I hate camping."

"You and I can share a tent, if you'd like," Lady Elspeth offered. "I know a few tricks to make it more comfortable."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!"

"I've a feeling I'll need to keep Cleon away from Nuada after tonight," I sighed, watching the contest start. It seemed to involve half the bar. This was going to end badly. "Oh, pardon my manners, milady."

"It's fine. You will need too. Nuada knows enough sleight of hand to fake drinking."

"Why would you want to know that?" Mistress Layla asked. "In the Tower, no one wanted to waste it." Oh, so they did drink. They must not have contests, then.

"It lets him win without the consequences."

"That is cheating."

"Only if you're caught," I pointed out. I frowned as some of the contestants sloshed their drinks. It was red. "What are they drinking?"

"It looks to be red wine," Lady Elspeth answered. I only stared at the red liquid staining the floorboards. "Are you well?"

"I am fine, milady." That was a lie. I was seeing blood where there wasn't any. I was hearing screams that weren't there. "Might we move away from the fire?" Fire made it worse. Fire added the smell of burning innocents.

"I would like that too," Layla murmured. "I do not like fire much." Lady Elspeth nodded silently and found a small corner for us to hide in and watch the antics of the crowd. It was fun, but dampened by all the red I could see.

Red, red, red. I hated the color.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of cameos, and lots of fun. Because I wanted to contrast the later quest as much as possible, and contrast it with Aiden's inner thoughts. Hints here of the Taint catching up more and more with Cleon.
> 
> Next chapter – WE'RE IN OSTAGAR AT LAST. Nuada POV. Also realized just how freaking long this fic is going to be, so I apologize ahead of time for it.


	16. Chapter 15) Ostagar

**Chapter 15) Ostagar**

_Nuada POV_

* * *

" _Nuada, are you all right?!" Cailan kneeled in front of me, snatching the first clean napkin he could find on the table to press against my face. "Anora, is there a physician on the way?" he asked desperately. "Damn it, Nuada, where did you even come from?"_

_"My mother?" I answered cheekily. He glared in response. "Hey, you asked!"_

" _A physician has been sent for_ _!" Anora informed us. She passed her husband a scarf to use instead of the napkins that were rapidly deteriorating. "There's a lot of blood…"_

" _Head wounds bleed too much," I reassured, smiling. "No need to worry."_

" _Nuada, don't smile. You're making it bleed more."_

" _Loghain has the assassin," Cailan whispered. He was still putting pressure on the cut. "Why didn't you say something first?"_

" _Eh, I moved too slow," I explained. "Elspeth was getting Uncle Loghain, and I was coming to get you. Then Alfstanna wanted to talk about something, and it took a minute to get away."_

" _Next time, just shout, not catch a knife with your face."_

" _Yes, yes."_

* * *

The ruins of Ostagar were old. They were old and grand, filled with mystery and wonder. Oh, I wished Oren could see this place! He'd have a field day!

"The Imperium built Ostagar long ago," Uncle Duncan was explaining to us as we made our way through the ruins. "They wanted to prevent the Wilders from invading the northern lowlands."

"Now, we are using it to combat the darkspawn," Layla murmured. "That sounds quite fitting."

"How many Wardens are there, Master Duncan?" Aiden asked.

"Less than a hundred," Uncle Duncan sighed. "All of us are here, of course."

"Why so few?"

"The Wardens attempted a coup in the past," I answered. "So, they got banished for two ages. Uncle Maric allowed them to return about twenty years ago?" I glanced at Elspeth, who nodded. She tried to just keep quiet when she wasn't talked to directly. "I'm glad to see I remembered the number correctly."

"So, they exiled the one group of people who can combat a blight?" Cleon sighed. "Idiots."

"Cleon, I'm not sure how they number things among the Dalish, but the last Blight was during the Exalted Age. That's over four hundred years ago."

"I read about that!" Layla noted excitedly. "It was the year 5:24 it ended, right?"

"With many darkspawn deaths," Uncle Duncan added. "The Wardens and dwarves knew the fight wasn't over, but the Fourth Blight had ended so triumphantly that the surface populace was convinced the Blights were gone. By the time of the coup, the Wardens were seen as an old legacy, and no longer needed."

"And now we have less than a hundred to stop a Blight," Cleon sighed. "Creators, guide and protect us."

"Worse is the fact we must stop it _here_. If it spreads north, Fereldan will fall." If it does, then the rebellion in the past would've been meaningless, in the end. That was a difficult pill to swallow.

"Hail, Duncan!" Oh, I knew that voice anywhere. Even if hadn't been dressed in the bright gold armor of his father that I was sure could be spotted from the Free Marches in this damn sunlight, Cailan always spoke with a very distinct mix of confidence and friendliness. He was _always_ good for picking up my mood.

"King Cailan!" Uncle Duncan yelped, automatically taking the hand Cailan had outstretched for a shake. "I didn't expect-"

"A royal welcome? Of course I'd be here. I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun!"

"Fun?" Cleon repeated with a growl. He looked incredibly unimpressed. "Oh, joy, the shemlen are ruled by an idiot."

"Hush," Aiden hissed. "Be polite."

"I'll keep my mouth shut."

"I shall help you," Layla muttered before tiptoeing to put her hand over his mouth. I hid a smile behind my hand at Cleon's outraged look. "There we go."

"So, these are the recruits you found, Duncan?" I had to hide my smile as the other three jumped from Cailan's remark. "A mage, a city elf, and a Dalish, yes?" he asked. "Absolutely fascinating."

"Yes, allow me to introduce you," Uncle Duncan began. He glanced at Elspeth and me, but I mimed him to be quiet. I wanted to see how long this took.

"There's really no need to be so formal, Duncan. We're shedding blood together, after all." Cailan smiled. "I'm Cailan. Might I have your names?"

"Your majesty, I believe you know some of us?" Aiden suggested hesitantly. Aw, Aiden!

"Huh?" Cailan frowned, looked around and started when he saw Elspeth and me. "What?"

"Aiden, you spoiled the fun!" I complained, grinning. "Hiya, big brother!"

"It's good to see you're well, Cailan," Elspeth greeted, far more formally. Still, she smiled, and it was a real one. "Anora's letters speak of great worry."

"Probably about how I'll offend someone," Cailan laughed. His smile faded slightly, though, as he noticed who _wasn't_ here. "Did… did something happen? Bryce isn't ill, is he?"

"Father's stronger than an ox!" I dismissed with a laugh. "He'll be-"

"Nuada, enough." Elspeth's interruption was soft, but the words still hit like a punch. "You can't pretend here," she told me. "You know that."

"You can't either." There was no heat in my retort. There wasn't a point, really. We both knew we had dysfunctional ways of coping and no amount of reminders would change that.

"Wait, what's going on?" Cailan demanded. "Nuada? Elspeth?"

"I'm afraid F…" Elspeth's voice caught and she had to pause a split second to get past the lump in her throat. "I'm afraid Father will not be coming," she whispered. "There will also be no more soldiers from our lands. We were attacked in the night by Amaranthine." She clutched the family sword and shield to her chest. She'd refused to let go of them the whole trip down. "Everyone is gone."

"You… what?" Cailan's mask slipped, revealing the wide-eyed scared boy he was at the moment. He'd probably been hoping to talk to Father about the battle. "Surely this is a poor jest."

"Father is dead. Mother, likely, is too." Elpesth's voice was talking that monotone she fell back to when trying to distance herself from things. "Oriana was slain. Oren and Eoin are missing. Countless soldiers are dead and at the mercy of a madman." It hurt all the more knowing that madman was someone I'd called 'uncle'. "Where is Fergus?"

"I… I just sent him out scouting." For a split second, Cailan looked ready to breakdown, but he hid it in time. "There was a troubling report, so I sent the person I trusted most to check." He forced a calm, reassuring smile. "He will not get away with this. I _refuse_ to let that happen." He gripped both of us by the shoulder, eyes burning fiercely. "As soon as we're done here, I will turn this very army north to string him up. _That_ is a promise."

"…Cailain, you're the best…" I mumbled, looking at the ground as I tried to remember where I was supposed to hide the memories and pretend they didn't exist.

"Yes, thank you, Cailan," Elspeth whispered. Her voice shook slightly, but no one would notice. "Do you think we can head in the camp and find a safe place for the sword and shield?"

"Oh, yes," Cailan laughed. His mask was back on, so he really looked like the overconfident king he was trying to play. "Just set it in my tent. There are guards all over the place there. Oh, but do be careful wandering the camp, you two. Some of the men will gawk at pretty ladies, and some of the ladies just _love_ a man with scars." He brushed a hand over the one on my cheek. "I'm glad that healed well, by the way."

"Of course it did," I dismissed. "Okay, we're off."

"Please, be polite to the other Warden recruits," Elspeth whispered. "Two are going through culture shock, I think."

"Thanks for the warning," he whispered back with a smile before turning his full attention to them. "I'm _terribly_ sorry for being so rude! Wasn't expecting my delightful siblings to join us in the glory."

"Man, he's milking that persona," I noted as Elspeth and I wandered deeper into the camp. "I guess things are bad."

"It's serving its purpose, though," Elspeth pointed out. "Morale is high."

"That is true."

"What are _you_ two doing here?" I jerked my head to the voice, smiling brightly at its owner. "Fergus said you two were staying in Highever," Uncle Loghain continued, frowning heavily. "Please tell me you two aren't hitting a rebellious stage."

"Well, I'm a Warden now!" I informed him cheerily. "Sorry, I know you'd been pushing me to join the army, or your guard, but circumstances occurred."

He blinked at me for a minute before turning to Elspeth. "He's in one of those moods again where he's infuriating. What happened?"

"Everyone died, so Nuada volunteered," Elspeth answered bluntly. "In truth, Uncle Loghain, I am more of a refugee than anything."

"A _Cousland_ refugee at that," I pointed out. "Been a while since Fereldan has seen that."

Uncle Loghain, however, didn't laugh. He just stared. "How did everyone…?" he began before shaking his head. "No, never mind. I'm not sure I want to hear." He sighed heavily. "When I saw you two, I half expected to hear Bryce had unexpectedly died or something, but not… you said everyone?"

"Well, Oren and Eoin could be alive," Elspeth whispered. "Some of the knights could be as well. But no one else is." She glanced at me, but I ignored her in favor of lala land. "You can see the effects for yourself, I gather."

"Yes, indeed." He fell silent, and we waited for him to get his thoughts straight, as always. "You don't have armor or weapons, do you?"

"We have the family sword and shield," Elspeth replied slowly. She held them up for emphasis. "But they belong to Fergus, not us." Elspeth had no clue how to fight with them, and there was now _way_ I was wielding them.

"Come, then. I'll get you some. You can't be near a battlefield without them, and I don't want anything to happen to you two." He looked almost pained. "This way." We followed him obediently, knowing better than to reply directly when he looked like that. We continued to say nothing as he led us past the army's common stores.

In fact, no one said anything until we made it to his private guards' tent. "Do you have Elspeth's type of armor in here, Uncle?" I asked as we slipped inside.

"In the back, yeah," he answered. "I know most of my guard uses heavy armor, but a few of the scouts prefer the lighter armors."

"Excuse me, but no one is allowed… oh, milord!" We turned and I smiled to see Cauthrien at the tent flap. "My apologies," she stuttered, looking at the ground. "I didn't realize it was you."

"It's fine, Cauthrien," Uncle Loghain dismissed, smiling at his most trusted captain. "Do you mind helping Elspeth with her armor?"

"Ah, of course, milord." She looked up and smiled at Elspeth and me. "I'm confused to see you two, lord and lady, but I can't say I'm not happy about it. I feel more comfortable knowing you'll be near to help out, if I may be so bold."

"Cauthrien, you hand my ass to me at spars," I laughed. "No need to be so formal."

"Yes, milord."

"Here, Nuada." Uncle Loghain handed me a set of glittering white armor as Cauthrien led Elspeth to a separate area, behind a curtain. "This should be to your weight and build," he stated. "Here, I'll help you."

"Thanks, uncle," I murmured. As we worked on the armor, I asked, "Oh, I'll need a sword and shield."

"You can pick those out yourself. Good training for you."

"You are such the taskmaster."

"Good. Obviously, your other teachers were too lax." I stuck out my tongue childishly and earned a light rap on the head, and a smile, for the action. "All right, armor is all buckled. Pick your weapons."

"Yes, sir, general, sir." As he rolled his eyes, I hunted through the shields and swords set up. It was easy to find the kite shields, my preferred type, and it wasn't long before I found a simple metal one, made silverite. I picked up a longsword of the same material not long afterwards. "These seem to fit my style."

"Stand your ground until your enemy thinks he's figured you out, before you throw them into the wall," Uncle Loghain snarked. I just grinned in reply. "Not bad choices at all. We get through this, though, and I'm getting you a better set."

"Thanks, uncle."

"Okay, we're all good here," Cauthrien called as she stepped out behind the curtain with Elspeth. I forced a grin at her leather armor. Cauthrien had made sure she was in only the best, but I didn't really like it when Elspeth donned the chest piece, skirt, and boots. Elspeth hated fighting more than just about anything. "Just need to get her a good bow."

"I'll take care of that, Cauthrien," Uncle Loghain stated. "I found one in the market not long ago I'd been meaning to give her anyway. We can check if it's a good match."

"Thank you, Uncle Loghain," Elspeth murmured, carefully braiding her hair to keep out of the way. "I appreciate it."

"It's the least I can do, dear." He clapped me over the shoulder. "What about you? You've the armor and weapons. Do you need a spar to remember how to use them?"

"Not right now," I laughed. "We'll see how things go with the preparations. I think I'll take a look around and get a feel for the area."

"All right." He nodded and turned his attention back to the girls. "Cauthrien, I want your men to do two more drills before resting for the battle." Cauthrien nodded and saluted. "Elspeth, come with me." Elspeth smiled slightly. "Oh, and Nuada, if you die, I'm giving you drills."

"Ouch, harsh!" I kept laughing as I headed out of the tent. "See you later, then!" As I exited, I stretched and glanced around. Okay. Time to figure out what I can see without looking like I was seeing anything. Cailan could use the fresh eye.

* * *

Cailan had summoned quite the myriad of people for this. There was everyone from the simple farmer to the noble to the Ash Warriors to the mabari themselves. Those last ones were _really_ making their presence known.

"Cailan, did you have to bring the whole damn kennel with you?" I laughed as he dragged me off to some secluded area in the camp. He must've finished greeting Uncle Duncan and the others. "The whole camp smells of wet dog!"

"It's their home too," he immediately protested, grinning like an idiot. "Besides, I'd sooner trust something precious to a mabari, right?"

"Oh, you know it. Eoin would tear through a wall if it was between him and Elspeth."

"Or protect Oren."

"That too." I had a feeling I knew what he was about to say. "Cailan, you know I have to be the strong Cousland."

"Just promise me you'll try and fix this when you're a Warden."

"I… sure, I promise to _try_."

"Good." He sighed. "Good."

I frowned and studied him a bit. "Cailan, not to be rude or anything to my dear big brother, but you look haggard."

He managed a smile. "I feel it."

"Well, I know I'm not Fergus, but I do have two working ears if you need them.

He almost protested, but stopped himself with a sigh. "Why not? You already know the biggest issue weighing on me." The lack of a royal heir weighed heavily on _everyone_. Anora was fast approaching an age where childbearing, and childbirth, was exceedingly dangerous for the mother and child, even with magic to help. "Uncle Eamon might've been the one to say it straight to my face, but I know most of the Bannorn is thinking it. Well, Uncle Teagan might not, but that's because he's nice enough to not bring up things he knows makes me uncomfortable." That was because Teagan actually had some _tact_ sometimes. "It's… you know… caused some problems…"

"Uncle Loghain scolded you for sleeping around, didn't he?" It must've been after Fergus had left if it was still weighing on him. Cailan told Fergus _everything_. They'd been each others' confidants since they were children.

"Among other things, yes." He glanced around to make sure no one else was around and slumped, discarding the mask for a time. "I think there's something wrong with me, Nuada," he whispered. I immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulder. It was awkward, because of the bulky armor we had on, but the gesture still communicated well. "I think it's my fault. But everyone is blaming Anora. No one is even considering the problem might be with me. I hate it. I hate it _so much_." He sighed. "I've… I've been thinking of annulling the marriage."

What. "Is that so?"

"I should be glad you're not yelling. Fergus stared at me for ten minutes when I told him before launching into a rant." He strained a smile. "We've been arguing a lot lately, Nuada. It's not working. I… we agreed to talk after the battle. To see if there was a way to fix things. But I think the only way to _fix_ it would be to end the marriage. Then, at least, she won't have as many people pressuring her. That can't be helping matters." Yeah, but I knew Anora. She liked being queen. "And most of the time, I think she really just hates me."

"You know that's not true."

"Some days, I really wonder." He sighed. "And then there's problems with Celene."

"You're talking about the Empress of Orlais?" He nodded. "Why?"

"She wants to visit, and the letter she used was quite… familiar." Oh, I could see where this was going.

"I'd talk more with Elspeth about anything dealing with her," I advised. "Out of the three of us, she spent the most time with the Empress when we were in Orlais. However, if I _had_ to make a guess… well, I'd say she's trying to do the same thing with you as she does with all her other 'suitors'." Celene was brilliant, after all. She strung them along with false promises and let those families support her power. Honestly, though, if someone had told me she was sleeping with Briala, I wouldn't have been surprised.

"And if she's not, she's trying to get Fereldan without a war," he sighed. "I know. Fergus stated that bluntly. I just need to figure out a way to reply."

"I would _definitely_ go to Elspeth for that." I grimaced. "I'm afraid thinking like an Orlesian noble tends to make me sick. I hate their Game."

"I've heard a _lot_ of complaints of it. I don't want to play it at all."

It was time for a subject change, but to what? Hmm, oh, now there was an idea! "Hey, Cailan, there are some healer mages here and I'm sure some of them could be discreet."

His face lit up in a smile as he caught my implications. "You're right! I could ask one of them if there's something… yes, it would be something more definitive to talk about."

"I think I can figure out a way to ask," I teased. "I might as well take advantage of that reputation of mine, no?"

"Little brothers are the best." He suddenly got a thoughtful look on his face. "Oh, wait, that's right. Listen, there's something I need to tell you."

Whatever it was, though, I wouldn't hear. Right at that moment, a soldier blundered into our hiding spot. "There you are, your majesty!" he gasped out. He must've been running for a while. "My apologies, sire, but you're needed!"

"Duty calls," Cailan sighed before clapping me on the shoulder. "I'm sure we'll both be busy until the battle, so let's talk afterwards? Lots of catching up to do."

"That sounds good," I agreed with a smile. "Oh, and thanks for those tips. I think I can woo a mage now without ending up as a toad!" He laughed. "I'll see you later, Cailan."

"Until then!" He let the soldier lead him off and I thought about what would be the best thing to do now. Well, considering the hour, it was probably time to go find my fellow Wardens. It was back to wandering, then!

* * *

The air of the camp was getting more chaotic. People were racing about, trying to finish last minute preparations. It took some hunting, but I eventually found Layla in the mess. However, despite her beauty which was brought into focus by the make-up Elspeth applied this morning, all my focus went to her companion.

"Uncle… Maric…?" The name just slipped out. The face, the demeanor, and the mannerisms were almost exactly like him. But… but no, it couldn't be Uncle Maric. Uncle Maric had been lost at sea five years ago, with no body ever found. I couldn't pretend that event away anymore.

"Huh? Did you say something?" the look-alike asked. I didn't answer immediately as I focused on every possible detail that was different. The coloring was most obvious. Uncle Maric had been as blonde haired and blue eyed as his son, but this man had reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. Uncle Maric had some faint scars on his neck from the Rebellion; this man had an even fainter scar only across his cheek. "Hello? Captivated or something?"

"Oh, I'm afraid most severely, epitome of handsomeness!" I joked, seizing the easy way out. How was I supposed to describe to a stranger that he looked almost exactly like my dead 'uncle', the Savior King? What really confused me was that he looked more like Uncle Maric than _Cailan_!

"Wait, you actually agreed?" Now he was grinning and _damn_ did it not look like Uncle Maric's too. I had to immediately focus on the fact that his was wider and freer to differentiate the two of them again. "So, which one are you? Duncan sent word of there being four more and I'm all confused as to who's who." Ah, so he was a Warden? "Layla's easy, since she's the only girl, but the rest?"

"Well, obviously, I'm the admiring one."

"Yes, but I'd probably need something else. It's apparently not polite to call people things like that."

"Nuada, do not be difficult!" Layla scolded with a frown. She was often frowning around me. "Alistair, you should not encourage him, either!"

"So, it's Alistair?" I asked, holding my hand out for a shake. He took it after a moment, like he'd been startled. "Well, it's nice to make your acquaintance. I'm Nuada Cousland."

"The noble, right," Alistair murmured. "Wait, now that I think about it, didn't Duncan mention the other two being elves?"

"He probably did, seeing as they are."

"Oops. Ah well, it's not all _that_ important, right?" He paused. "Wait, or is it?"

"I wouldn't say so. They're talented warriors who happen to have pointy ears and other elf characteristics."

"And here I thought the Chantry sisters were right about me being a weird, blasphemous child." He grinned again. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Lord Cousland. I'm Alistair, like Layla said."

"Please, call me Nuada," I corrected. "If I survive, we're going to be brothers in arms and that whole siblings and family calling each other titles junk is so… _Orlesian_." I paused as I thought. "Wait, that might've been Nevarra. Ah, damn if I remember. I'll have to ask Elspeth later. She kept it straighter."

"What do you mean 'if you survive'?" Layla asked, curious.

Oh, shoot, that slipped out. "Well, I'd explain, but then mister Warden here might have to hurt me for spilling Warden secrets," I immediately covered. I smiled at Alistair's frown. "You haven't been a target of Elspeth's questions yet, so hold judgment on your fellows until you have been. Nothing is safe from her once she asks a question about it."

"Duly noted," Alistair reluctantly replied. I took a guess and pegged him as the 'dutiful' type. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but it looks like the last two new recruits are walking up."

"Why do you say that?" Layla asked. It was her favorite form of communication, asking questions.

"Something about them being the first elves I've seen that don't look like they're expecting a beating?"

"If anything, it looks like Aiden had to keep Cleon from _giving_ a beating," I laughed as the two came up. Aiden was dragging Cleon behind him, keeping a firm grip on his arm, and a firmer grip on his mouth.

"Milord, I am pleased to be a source of amusement," Aiden told me, letting only a little anger through.

"Well, you don't look too happy about it. What happened?"

"We made the acquaintance of Teyrn Mac Tir."

"Oh, what did Uncle Loghain do? He's horribly untactful."

"He made a comment that Cleon did not agree with."

"Well, that is obvious," Layla pointed out. "Cleon, you are going to make your condition worse if you do not calm down. What did he say anyway?"

"The Dalish have no kings," Cleon hissed, finally freeing himself from Aiden. "None!"

"Well, of course you all don't," I commented after a moment of just staring. Uncle, what _did_ you say? "The Dalish are an autonomous group that wanders throughout Thedas because they lost their homeland long ago."

"We had it stolen!"

"My history books claim it was in retaliation. Yours likely claim otherwise. History is a biased story that you should always take with a grain of salt. You can never get the full story, even from a first-hand basis." The others stared at me. "Is something the matter?"

"Never seen a shem talk like that," Cleon answered after a moment. "You're weird."

"Thank you for the compliment!" I grinned at Cleon's stare. "Is something wrong, Cleon?"

"He is confused by your smile, like the rest of us," Layla muttered.

"You've been studying my smile?"

"Yes, I have."

"Oh, my! My heart is all a'flutter over being scrutinized by such a lovely woman."

"What?!" She flushed bright red. "I… I…"

"Time to come to the rescue?" Alistair cut in, smothering a laugh. "Have you met the other recruits?"

"I met Daveth," Layla announced, obviously glad for the way out of the conversation. "Though he mentioned something weird about how he shall 'definitely be watching' when I mentioned watching backs."

"That means he's going to be checking out your hindquarters," I noted. She glared at me, but I just shrugged it off.

"Shem are… odd," Cleon noted.

"The Dalish don't check out women?" Aiden asked dryly. I really wished he'd talked to me that casually. But I'd just roll with it.

"It isn't something we _announce_."

"Right, so, keep Daveth away from Layla," Alistair noted with a sigh. "That's just impolite. Have any of you met Ser Jory?"

"I have, Ser Warden." With those words, Elspeth joined our conversation, carefully stepping behind me as all eyes turned to her. "Master Duncan requested that I come find you," she explained softly. I noted how tired she looked already and knew all the signs of fighting were getting to her. "Ser Daveth and Ser Jory are already at the campfire."

"Then off we go," I laughed. She frowned at it, but I just grinned in reply and she shook her head before walking off, likely to do another errand for Uncle Duncan or Cailan. "Hey, tell Uncle Loghain that he insulted Cleon, will you?" She waved a hand to show she heard me before she disappeared around the corner.

"That isn't necessary," Cleon protested. Strangely, I'd thought he'd be glad to hear of a human getting reprimanded. "Really, it's not."

"Yes, it is," I argued. "You're an ally and you were insulted. Uncle Loghain should know better."

"On that note, let's head to the campfire," Aiden suggested. "If you will follow me, milord?"

"Thanks, Aiden."

However, just as I was about to follow him and the other two, Alistair stopped me with a light tap on my shoulder. "Hey, Nuada?" he began.

"What is it, oh handsome one?"

He chuckled at the joke before replying. "That girl. Who is she?"

"Elspeth is my sister. Why?"

"She looked sad. Do you think some flowers would cheer her up?" The question was simple, but it was enough to make me go slack-jawed. "What? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if I did. Raised by dogs and all, so I don't know manners properly."

"No, it's not that," I hastily reassured. "I was just startled. Not many people notice that." I smiled. "Yeah, she loves flowers. Go for it."

"All right." He grinned back. "Let's head to the fire, then."

"Lead on."

* * *

"Ah, and there are the last," Uncle Duncan noted when we arrived at the small grouping. I nodded a greeting at the two strangers. I recognized Ser Jory from the tournament, so that meant the other one had to be Daveth. Logic was nice, sometimes. "You're ready to begin the preparations, I take it?"

"Yes, sir," Aiden replied for us. He looked flustered for a split second before bowing his head to me. "My apologies, milord."

"Aiden, it's fine," I reassured. "Don't fret so much. It takes more than that to offend me."

"Yes, milord."

"I'm glad to see you're done riling up mages, Alistair," Uncle Duncan continued, leveling a stern look the young warrior's way. "I had a complaint or twenty."

"What can I say?" Alistair sighed. "The revered mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt, they should stick her in the army."

"So, she forced you to sass him, then?" Alistair winced. "We cannot afford to antagonize anyone. They don't need more ammunition."

"Um… Commander Duncan?" Layla softly interrupted. She looked at the ground when Uncle Duncan turned his attention to her. "I know that mage. I have never seen a single person, mage or otherwise, come out of a conversation with him without wanting to strangle him."

"I see." He sighed. "Regardless, Alistair, try to keep the sarcasm to a minimum."

"Yes, Duncan," Alistair mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"I know." Uncle Duncan nodded at the rest of us. "Has everyone met?" We shook our heads. "Well, introduce yourselves on the way. We have until sunset to get ready."

"Ready for what?" Cleon asked. "Is there a test or something?"

"Yes." The look Cleon had told me he hadn't actually expected a reply. "I'm just waiting for a confirmation… ah, and here's Elspeth."

"Your recruits are cleared to go into the Wilds," Elspeth informed him as she approached. Noting the strangers, she subtly ducked behind Uncle Duncan to hide. "I have also confirmed the mages will be ready well before then. There is still no set area for the Joining, though."

"Well, we still have some time," Uncle Duncan responded as most of the group just looked around in confusion. I didn't, and Alistair frowned when he caught that. "Now then…"

"Wait, what are 'the Wilds'?" Aiden asked. "Is that the forest here?"

"Ah, yes." As Uncle Duncan explained the basics of the Korcari Wilds, I noticed Elspeth studying Alistair. I caught her attention and signaled for her to tell me later. She nodded and I smiled back. "That's it, really. You won't need to know more to head in."

"We're going _into_ the Wilds?" Cleon demanded. He looked shaken by that. "That is the home of Asha'bellanar!"

"Yes, but you'll be on a path, and I need you to perform two tasks." Uncle Duncan's tone brooked no arguments, and Cleon knew it. "The first task is to obtain vials of darksparn blood. Six of them, to be precise."

"So, we each just need to get one," Layla murmured. "That should be easy, then." Yeah, I wondered when it would click that wasn't a coincidence. "What is the second?"

"There was once a Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago. Some of our scholars recently discovered that some scrolls were left behind, magically sealed to protect them."

"If they were important, why were they left behind?" Alistair asked. "That doesn't make sense."

"It was assumed we would return for them," Uncle Duncan explained. "A great many things that were assumed in those days did not hold true. But if there are there, we must have them."

"Are they promises?" I asked softly. "Promises would be very important in a Blight."

"Yes, they are formal treaties." That was even better. "We must have them."

"So, get the vials and the treaties," the fellow I assumed was Daveth summarized. I was honestly startled to hear him talk. Both he and Ser Jory had been utterly silent through this whole thing. "Sounds easy enough."

"Yes…" Uncle Duncan looked to Alistair. "Guard your charges," he ordered. "Return quickly and safely."

"Yes, Duncan," Alistair replied, saluting. "I'll have everyone back."

As everyone else just rolled their eyes, I caught Elspeth's worried look and tried to smile to reassure her. I wasn't sure how much it helped, though. We knew, unlike the others, that the worst was yet to come. The true test, the one that destroyed your life one way or another, was on the horizon.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Ostagar! There's a lot of Cailan here, but I wanted to show him off, and what better POV than Nuada's? …Even if it meant long chapter again. Oops. Briala is a character in the Masked Empire, Celene's childhood friend, maid, spymaster, _and_ lover.
> 
> …Ugh, I now have to deal with Jory and Daveth, in addition to everyone else. We'll see if I can pull it off. Not promising anything though. Sorry for delaying in putting out the chapter. Finals hit, and now I'm tired, but I wanted to move the story along.
> 
> Next chapter – Into the Wilds with Cleon


	17. Chapter 16) Into the Wilds

**Chapter 16) Into the Wilds**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

" _Above all else, children, there is one you must never cross," Hahren Paivel told us, finishing up a tale of all the things to be wary of. "Terrible in her temper, wild in her beauty, Asha'bellanar is not one to be trifled with. If you should ever find yourself in her path, be respectful, be courteous, and, above all else, get away as fast as you can."_

" _But how do we get away and be polite?" Tamlen asked from his seat next to me._

" _Considering your temperament, da'len, you should work on just being polite first." We all giggled at Tamlen's expense. "Oh, and there is one more warning." We all fell silent as Hahren Paivel's face grew even more serious. "If she asks something of you, do it. And don't dawdle. She is not known for her patience. Understood?" We nodded. "Good. Now, run off and play."_

_We certainly were quick to obey that!_

* * *

I did not like being here. I did _not_ like being here. What sort of foolishness did the Dread Wolf breath into Duncan for making us come here? _Asha'bellanar_ made her home here! We shouldn't be just wandering about! Not to mention…

I glanced down at my hand and slowly willed it to clench and unclench. It moved sluggishly and I couldn't feel it at all. I'd noticed it this morning. I couldn't feel anything. It made it strange to move and walk. Like I was floating. Honestly, I probably shouldn't be moving at all, but I was stubborn and refused to just sit and wait for my fate. I studied the Vir Assan to fight and survive. I was one of Andruil's hunters. I wouldn't waver!

"You're acting like you've got cobwebs in your head, mate." Startled, I turned and saw Daveth grinning at me. While I got along with this strange shem well, I stayed away from Ser Jory. The fact that he left his _pregnant wife_ for some vague glory just rubbed me the wrong way, and I wasn't getting in an argument here. Maybe I'd yell at him when I was better. "Need someone to dust them out?" he teased. "The darkspawn didn't do enough of that, it seems."

I managed a smile at that. I was not at all happy at seeing those twisted creatures again, especially living. "At least we collected the blood Duncan needed," I murmured. Why would we need blood, though? Blood was powerful. The stories taught us that well. And the burning blood of darkspawn seemed to hold greater power still. If not greater, certain _different_. "Still, I'm glad to clear them out of the Wilds."

"Ah, but later we'll be fighting a _whole_ bunch of them." Yes, I definitely needed to be reminded of that. Not. "But I wish we could get out of this place. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"It bothers you too?"

"Yeah, I grew up not far from here. You get all these tales of the Witch of the Wilds." He shuddered. "Nasty stuff, that. I don't fancy being turned into a frog and boiled in a pot!" Shem'len had a strange idea about how magic worked. And a fascination with being turned into slimy things. "I reckon you don't either."

"No, I hate frogs." Gross and slimy and… and there was something in the bushes. "Shem'len coming."

"How can you tell?"

"You are the only creatures I know that make that think making that much noise in a forest is a good idea." Now, granted, it was hard for anything to move without making noise, but still. "State your business, or…" I trailed off as the shem emerged. "Oh. No wonder you're making that much noise."

Whatever had gotten to him had loved blood. Dried and ripped apart scabs were all over his face and neck, with more peeking through ripped apart cloth on his arms and legs. His nails were chipped and caked in grime as he pulled himself forward inch by inch. I fought the urge to cover my nose as the smell wafted over. Mud, feces, and blood. This shem had been crawling for a long time to get so caked, to the point where even sweat and water did nothing to disperse the chunks that clung to his broken armor. "Who… is that…?" he managed awkwardly as I noticed the others crowd around. "Soldiers? Grey… Wardens…?"

"Well, he's not as half dead as he looks, is he?" the Warden Alistair noted dryly as the soldier collapsed at our feet. "Wow."

"Here, I will heal you," Layla offered, kneeling down next to him. "Hold still, please."

But as soon as she called up the magic, the soldier groaned, and rolled himself away. "No magic," he gasped. Layla's eyes widen at the refusal. "No magic. No mage."

"What happened to you?" Nuada asked, kneeling in front of the soldier. I noticed Aiden help Layla up and frowned at how pale and shaky she was. "Come on, soldier, talk to me."

"They… they came out of the ground." His bleeding hands shook and Nuada took them gently. "Out of the ground, out of the shadows. Please… please help me. I'm scared. I'm so scared."

"It's all right." He glanced up and I saw him looking at Aiden and Layla. What was going on? "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Lots of them. _Lots_ of them. More than before. Way more. Captured us. Ripped us apart. I still… I still hear the screams." The soldier sobbed. "They threw a corpse on me. Thought I was dead. All the bodies…" I'd heard of some hunters who hid amidst the dead to escape something terrifying, but this seemed a little much. "Please, help me. I need… I need to report and… and I'm scared! I'm scared."

"Well, I would be too. Don't feel bad about that." I jumped at the bloom of white light, but Nuada didn't twitch. A quick glance told me Layla was healing the soldier anyway. She was too kindhearted sometimes, but I suppose I could understand, a little. The soldier looked younger that all of us, after all. "How are you feeling?"

"I… wait, the pain is… disappearing?" He gripped Nuada's hand tightly. "I'm… I'm not going numb, am I? Please…"

"No, you're being healed," Aiden informed him softly. The soldier jerked up his head to see the elf and mage standing apart. "Because that's what mages do. They _help_ people."

"And Layla's a sweet girl," Alistair added, shrugging. "I'm some bandages in my pack to help supplement it. Here." He quickly bandaged what he could. "If you head down that path there, you'll make it to the camp."

"Th-thank you…" the soldier mumbled. Alistair helped him up and he swayed. "I'll… I'll go… oh, thank the Maker. Thank you…" He limped off.

"Not even a thank you for Layla," I muttered. "Shem'len."

"I'd guess very superstitious, or he just came from an encounter with a darkspawn mage," Nuada mused. He shrugged at my frown. "Darkspawn have magic too. Uncle Duncan has this _huge_ scar across his back where a sorcerer threw a bolt of lightning his way and he barely dodged."

"I know that man," Ser Jory mumbled, obviously not paying attention to the conversation as he spoke up for the first time in a while. I noticed he was much paler than he had been a while ago. "He left with a squad of seasoned men. And they were all killed? By the darkspawn?" Oh, Creators, please don't tell me the man had thought this would be _easy_. Didn't anyone learn stories?

"Calm down, Ser Jory," Alistair replied. "We fought them already. We're fine if we're careful." And we ambushed them. "Nothing to worry about."

"But there's an _entire_ army hiding in these blasted trees." There was more to a forest than the trees. They could be hiding in the bushes. "What if more show up? I bet those soldiers were careful, and they were still overwhelmed." I somehow doubted the shem'len had been cautious. "What about us?"

"There are darkspawn about, but we're in no danger of walking into the horde itself."

"How do you know?" He was a Warden. They probably knew this stuff. "I'm not a coward." Fooling me. "But this is foolish and reckless. We should go back."

"I doubt we can go back to Duncan and say we were too scared to continue," I pointed out. I did, at least, try to keep my tone even. I really just wanted to shake the shem, for being an idiot. "I wouldn't be surprised if this was part of a test."

"Well, you'd be right," Nuada confirmed. "If you don't survive this, there's no way you'd survive what's to come. Wardens spend their lives fighting darkspawn."

"Should we not keep moving?" Aiden suggested politely. Layla, pale and frowning, leaned into him, not saying a word. "We want to get out of here before nightfall, right?"

"Yes, you are," Alistair confirmed. "Now, Ser Jory, the whole reason I'm here is because I can sense darkspawn for short distances. They can't take us by surprise."

"You see, ser knight?" Daveth cut in with a grin. "We might die, but we'll be warned about it first!"

"That is reassuring," Ser Jory muttered darkly. "Then, if we are continuing this fool's endeavor?"

As the others began walking again, a sharp snap caught my attention and I turned to see a cat had made the noise. Sleek black fur and glowing gold eyes, it was small and watched us from the shadows. Strange…

"Cleon?" I glanced back to see Nuada return for me. The others were in the distance. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You suddenly stopped." I pointed to the shadows, where the cat still was. Watching. Waiting. "Oh, there's something over there?"

Nuada frowned as he caught sight of the cat and, to my surprise, kicked a rock at it! It ducked and disappeared into the shadows. "Why did you do that?" I demanded, feeling outrage burning in my head. Well, nice to know I could feel _some_ things.

But Nuada's expression didn't change. "I've never seen a cat _duck_ ," he noted absently. "I've seen them run and dodge, but not duck like that." He turned to face me. "Have you?"

"I…" Oh. Oh, I got what he was saying. "No. Not like that, at least."

"Then there was something odd about that cat."

"Oh, joy. You might've pissed off something magical."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Remind me to tell you later about how I nearly got a mage in Kirkwall to flay me alive."

"You can't be nonchalant about these woods, Nuada!"

"Why? Is it because of the Witch of the Wilds who commands the trees to pick up young boys and threatens to kill them?" Huh? "I know the stories. Uncle Loghain and Uncle Maric were once at her mercy. She spared them because she wanted something from Uncle Maric."

"Then why are you being nonchalant?"

"You don't follow someone unless you want something from them." …Ah… "That is a bargaining chip, if the need comes. _If_ she's watching us, then she needs something. Otherwise, she would've just killed us."

"…I hate it when idiocy sounds logical."

"I'd apologize, but you wouldn't believe me." He grinned. "Anyway, let's get moving. We're falling behind." So we were.

"Lead on."

* * *

"What are you doing?" I found myself asking a short while later as I noticed Alistair duck off the path for something.

"Um… picking flowers?" he answered sheepishly. Why in the Creators' names would he be picking flowers during a serious mission? "You want some?"

"No, and I most definitely wouldn't want the ones you're trying to pick. They're poisonous."

"Oh." He pointed to another patch close-by. "Well, what about those?"

"I… yes, those are fine. Why are you picking them?"

"Oh, I'm going to make a little crown out of them to put on my head. Because I always wanted a crown, you know?" Shem'len and their greed. "And you can't take a joke, apparently." That… wait, that had been a joke? "Good to know! So, you sure those flowers are safe?"

"Yes, they're perfectly safe." He'd been sarcastic. I… right then. Weird shem'len again. Just writing it off as that. "I used to pick them for…" My throat closed up as I realized just what flower I was looking at. I'd picked a bouquet of them for Merrill when I asked her to marry me. "For someone."

"A lot of Wardens had to leave things behind." I was startled by the care and concern in his face. "Sometimes, they got something back."

"Were you made against your will?"

"Not really. Becoming a Warden is the best thing that's happened to me." What? "I've a group of people who love and respect me. I have a _family_. I never had that, growing up. Just the servants, and then the Chantry." He shrugged. "I never wanted to be a Templar. Sure, Duncan conscripted me, but it's far better than what I had. I went from being alone to having all the friends and brothers and sisters I could ever ask for."

"I was forced to leave behind mine."

"Well, when you're ready, the Wardens can become a second family. Not to replace, mind. Some get touchy when you try to imply that. But, you know… to fill the gap." He smiled lopsidedly. "Wow, where's all this stuff coming from? Normally I'd have tripped over my words by this point! Anyway, I'm going to pick those flowers."

"Yeah, okay…" …Wait, he was going for… "Not _that_ bunch, the one behind them!"

"Oh. Oops." He laughed. "See? Told you I'd trip up. It happens a lot. You get used to it, I promise." He stood up, tucked the flowers carefully into a pack at his belt, turned, and his face completely fell. "…Oh…"

"What wrong?"

"Look there." He pointed to something and I had to step around him see it. When I did, though, I felt myself slump. "The poor sods. That just seems so excessive."

There, in the distance, was a great tree that had fallen years ago, bridging a gap between two large hills here in the forest. It was beautiful, with moss and fungus spiraling all over it, but I couldn't focus on that. Only on the ropes tied to the long dead branches, and the slowly turning bodies that dangled from them. "Is this normal?" I whispered, carefully walking to them. The smell of grime, blood, and urine wafted my way and I fought the urge to gag. "Do they always do this?"

"Duncan says he normally sees things like this when the Archdemon is out and about," Alistair answered as he followed me. "It requires cunning and intelligence, and most darkspawn can't focus long enough for it until a Blight starts."

"…Falon'din, please guide their souls to rest…" It was hard to look at them. Broken bones, missing limbs… they'd been tortured before being hung.

"Layla, can you get them down?" I twisted and saw the others behind me. While Aiden and Nuada looked passive, the other three were… more affected. Daveth had actually ducked behind a bush to be ill. "Layla," Aiden repeated, still just watching. "Can you?"

"I… yes, I believe I can," Layla whispered shakily. Her eyes shimmered with tears and she covered her mouth as if to stop sobs. "If you will give me just one moment, I can come up with a spell."

"Ser Jory, Daveth, if you two could gather some wood for a pyre, it would be appreciated," Nuada ordered the other two. Both were green. "They deserve a sendoff."

"We can also see if there's any sort of identification," Alistair added as the two shem'len ducked off to follow orders. "Who's catching?"

"I was thinking we three, Ser Alistair," Aiden mumbled. "We seem to be the strongest."

"…Did you seriously call me by title? No, no, and no. No title. Yes to catching bodies, though. It's so much fun."

"Very well, ser."

"I have the spell," Layla interrupted. Her hands shook as she held them out. "Are you ready?" The three warriors nodded. "Then, here we go."

Layla's aim was off, so it took quite a few tries to get all three down. But soon they were, and were laid down on a bed of twigs, branches, and logs. "Why do the shem'len burn their dead?" I asked as I set down the last of the rocks around the bed and Alistair went to work to make a spark from flint and tender.

"Andraste died in fire," Aiden explained. All of us were standing a respectful distance away. Though, in my opinion, Daveth and Ser Jory, who were far behind us, were a little _too_ respectful in their distance. "Good idea on the rocks."

"It should help the fire stay in one place."

"Burning corpses has another benefit too, Cleon," Layla informed me. She kept her head down as she leaned into me. "Demons can invade corpses and reanimate them. There are also some spells that allow it. They are mostly blood magic, but I believe there is a Spirit Magic spell that can call a skeleton up. So, burning protects the dead from violation."

"Nevarra has a big problem with those," Nuada added. For once, he wasn't smiling. I was actually pretty grateful for that. "Death is part of their culture. It's this in-depth ritual, with its own section of mages just devoted to it. They have a number of huge and elaborate tombs, most started while they're still alive, and they have entire cities just devoted to the dead."

"Creepy," I mumbled. "Very creepy."

"It's their culture."

We might've said more, but Alistair got the fire going and it felt appropriate to not say anything as the fire devoured the bodies. "I found some things that can be used," Alistair noted once the smoke really got going and we moved away to prevent choking on the ash and scent of burning meat. "So, hopefully, they can be identified."

"We found the ruin," Daveth called. I looked up to see him _very_ far ahead. Creators, would it have killed them to wait? "But you're not going to like this!" Huh?

The reason why was easy to see as soon as we walked into the run down, vine and moss infested building."There's nothing here," Aiden sighed. He knelt down beside a cracked stone chest and absently picked up a piece. "Broken crates, shattered walls… nothing that looks like writing at all."

"So, it was pointless," I sighed, summarizing everything. Everyone's faces fell at the words. Even that damn Nuada's. "Dread Wolf and his tricks..." Ah, it was getting harder to move too. I had to get back to the camp before I collapsed. "So, what do we do n-?" Behind us came a meow. I almost ignored it, until I remembered the strange cat from before. I turned to the sound, only to sense the burn of magic in the air and catch a flash of gold light as it bloomed into life. The so-called cat slowly lengthened and twisted. Paws and claws turned into hands, feet, and nails. Fur melted into skin, jewelry, and clothes. Ears and whiskers flattened into hair and nose. Then, as the light faded and the magic dispersed, the features sharpened into a human woman, the likes of whom I'd never seen before.

"Well, well," the woman purred, studying us with glittering gold eyes as black flames danced at her fingertips. "What do we have here?"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Korcari Wilds are split into two parts. This is because while Cleon's POV is fun for the Wilds itself, _Layla's_ POV will be fun for meeting Flemeth for the first time. So, yeah! And yes, I had to end it on that memorable line. I decided to bring in Morrigan's shapeshifting for the encounter. Because shapeshifting is cool. I modeled it after Flemeth's _very memorable_ entrance in DA2. Because like mother, like daughter.
> 
> Next Chapter – Have Layla's reaction to Morrigan and Flemeth!


	18. Chapter 17) Witches of the Wilds

**Chapter 17) Witches of the Wilds**

_Layla POV_

* * *

" _That's another batch lost in the Wilds!" I ducked out of sight as I heard the templars yelling. Even as young as I was, I knew better than to be seen by angry templars. A few had used Jowan as a punching bag just yesterday for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course, the Knight-Commander had scolded them severely for it, but that did not change the bruises. "They were left in the bloody trees!"_

" _Maybe we should steer clear," another suggested softly._

" _And let the apostate get away with this?!"_

" _And not lose more men until we have a better idea of what's there. That Witch of the Wilds legend has been around since before Gregoir was born and, trust me, that was a_ while _back!" There was a bit of laughter and it slowly faded away. I peered around the corner to confirm they were gone before I raced to the library._

' _Witch of the Wilds' sounded like an interesting thing to research._

* * *

She was a woman. She was a cat, but now she was a woman. She was a cat… woman… person… mage… _How could you shapeshift outside of the Fade?!_ That should be impossible! The Circle was clear about that! She was also dressed so… so _scandalously_. While yes, mages were not as affect by temperature extremes as non-mages, for how else could we stand the heat of fire spells or the cold of ice magic, she was dressed in what seemed to be scarves and stitched up rags!

It did not help that she had this very odd slink to her walk as she approached us. "Are you all vultures?" she asked coyly, smirking all the while. "Come to rummage through a corpse whose bones have long since been picked clean?" She came closer to Cleon, who tugged me behind him. "Or are you merely intruders, invading these darkspawn filled woods of mine in search of easy prey?"

"If these Wilds belong to anyone, they would belong to Asha'bellanar," Cleon answered tightly, glaring down at the woman. "You are not she."

"No, but that does not answer my question, and it seems to me that you are the ones at fault, not I." Her smirked widened. "So, tell me. Scavenger or intruder?"

"What about this tower, here?" Nuada asked. He seemed _completely_ at ease with all of this. "The Wilds may have claimed it, but we're looking for that which is hidden inside it, Madame Cat."

"Oh, I remember you. I did not enjoy the rock you threw at me." She straightened and walked to Nuada, Cleon shifted so that he remained between her and me. "It interfered with my watching most severely."

"You seem to have found us readily enough."

"Indeed, you are so loud, I do believe anything could've followed you." She chuckled and stepped back to regard us all. "But so many questions wandered through my head. Where was your destination? Why have you disturbed ashes long since settled?"

"No one answer her," Alistair muttered. Though his shield was on his back, he'd palmed his sword. "She looks Chasind."

"What's wrong with Chasind?" Cleon demanded.

"They _never_ travel alone."

"Oh, so you feel that barbarians will swoop down?" the woman mocked.

Alistair, however, retorted instantly. "Yes, swooping is bad." I giggled far more than I should have as I recalled Commander Duncan saying it long ago, when things had been a little happier. "Very bad. Extremely bad."

"Oh, joy, a half-wit who thinks he's clever."

"And who just mocked a witch of the wilds," Daveth grumbled, keeping his distance. "She'll turn us into toads!" Shapeshifting was not…! …Well, actually, I had no retort for that. This woman had obviously proved it was more than possible.

"Witch of the Wilds," the woman repeated with a chortle. "Such idle fancies those legends. Have you no minds of your own?"

"It is not the lack of minds, mistress," Aiden slowly interrupted. "Merely our limited understanding."

"My, such manners!" Well, she finally looked pleased. "Are you offering yourself as my servant?" Aiden tensed slightly. "Slave?" Cleon looked ready to snap.

"Perhaps it was, instead, politeness," Nuada sighed, thankfully preventing a fight from breaking out. "It is a way to refer to an unmarried woman who may or may not hold a title, such as a knight or a noble."

"Truly? Well, I am flattered even further," she laughed. So, if we were polite, she would be in a better mood. That was good to know. "Tell me your name, polite one, and I shall give you mine."

"I am Aiden Tabris," Aiden replied evenly. He looked a little confused as to why he was the one being addressed, glancing at Nuada. Nuada, for his part, was just grinning. "I hail from Denerim, in the north."

"I see. Well, you may call me 'Morrigan'." She smiled and rocked back on her heels, crossing her arms in a slightly intimidating pose. It also brought more emphasis to her chest, but I was not sure if that was intended or not. "Now, shall I guess your purpose?"

"I suppose?"

"Let's see, hmm… you sought something in that chest, there?" She pointed to the broken case. "Something that is… there no longer?"

"There no longer?" Alistair repeated with a growl. "You stole them, didn't you? You… you're some kind of sneaky witch thief." Pardon?

"How very eloquent." That was some thick sarcasm.

"What is wrong with being a witch?" I found myself asking. I kept behind Cleon, of course, but still, the words slipped out.

"Nothing," Alistair answered easily. "So long as they aren't the sneaky thief kind. Those are bad. Very slippery. And apparently don't wear proper clothing."

"I suppose being completely covered in a robe and freckles is a 'proper' witch?" Morrigan scoffed, telling me that my attempts to hide had been for naught. I flushed and looked down. I had never been ashamed of my robes, but I was slowly gaining a self-consciousness about the freckles I had developed from the sunburns.

"Well, freckles are adorable and robes leave more to the imagination," Nuada absently commented. I squeaked out how candid the remark was! Cleon, the traitor, choked on a laugh. "It leaves more for surprises. I, personally, am confused by how pale you are, considering you're so exposed." Morrigan's eyes narrowed, but Nuada seemed not to care. "But maybe that is a type of magic? I'd call that a waste, but what do I know?"

"If I can intervene?" Aiden quickly cut in before Morrigan lashed out with something awful.

"Oh, yes, I'd over much prefer it if you or the quiet elf there talked," Morrigan grumbled. "The rest of you can keep quiet."

"Then perhaps we can have the documents that were left here? They are of great importance."

"Well, _I_ cannot give them back, for I was not the one to take them in the first place."

"Can you lead us to who has them?"

"I suppose I can take you to my mother, yes. Perhaps she shan't leave you in the trees." Pardon? "I do like you and your sensibility, though."

"Be careful," Alistair muttered. "First it's 'I like you' and then zap! Frog time!"

"Sh-she'll put us all in the pot, she will," Daveth stammered. I felt my shoulders slump at the distrust. While Morrigan had shown no signs of being trustworthy, of course, they seemed to think it was all because of her magic, not her general air.

"Well, it'll be nice to warm up," Ser Jory muttered. I was actually startled to hear him talk. He'd only had a conversation with Nuada the whole trip, aside from that one group conversation.

"Yes, we had best follow her," Cleon agreed. I was mildly surprised by that. "If her mother is who I believe, then it will not do to make her wait."

"Two sensible men in the party!" Morrigan laughed. Her smile seemed all too predatory for my liking. "Come with me, then. I shall show you the way."

Oh, why did we have to follow the crazy apostate?

* * *

I… honestly was not expecting a small hut. I was also not expecting the woman who waited for us. I knew her for magic immediately, of course, and hid behind Aiden as Morrigan led us straight for her. That much power was not to be treated lightly.

"Greetings, Mother," Morrigan called politely. She walked up to stand behind her mother, but the rest of us hung back. "I bring you Wardens who-"

"I see them, girl," the woman interrupted. She studied us closely. I thought her gaze just barely acknowledged Daveth and Ser Jory, but lingered on the rest of us. "Hmm, much as I expected." Pardon?

"Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?" Alistair responded. He had a slight chuckle to his tone.

"You are required to do _nothing_ , least of all believe. What you choose to do… well, that is no concern of mine, in the end." She shrugged. "Shut one's eyes tight or open them wide… either way, a fool is a fool, until he stops hiding from his birthright." Alistair started at that, but I could not see how.

"Don't listen to her," Daveth muttered. He still looked shaky. "She's a witch, I tell you."

"Well, if she _is_ a witch, then do you really want to provoke her?" Ser Jory asked dryly. It was nice to see something sensible, even if I disliked their focus on her being a mage.

"The lack of respect shem'len show continues to astound me," Cleon sighed. He certainly _looked_ annoyed. "My apologies, Asha-" He snapped his jaw shut with an audible clack as the woman smiled slightly and mimed some sign in front of her face. Was she telling him to be quiet? "As you will."

"It's so much fun to see such wit from someone largely irrelevant to the grand scheme of things," the woman continued, as if she had not heard Cleon at all. Ser Jory frowned at being called 'irrelevant'. "Of course, that's not my decision."

"Mother, they did not come to listen to your _tales_ ," Morrigan interrupted, obviously exasperated. I was grateful for her, since I was, for some reason, starting to become _afraid_ of the old woman.

"Ah, this is true. They came for their treaties, yes?" The woman produced a small roll of papers from her skirt. I assumed they had pockets. "Before you start barking, I protected them when the wards fell."

"You… oh," Alistiar attempted to reply, but fell short as he accepted the treaties. He was the only 'real' Warden among us, after all. "I see. Thank you, very much."

"Politeness is always a good trait to have." She smiled slightly. "Give them to your commander with a message. This Blight's threat is greater than anyone of them can have imagined."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Either they have imagined less or the threat is more. Or perhaps the threat is nothing." She started laughing. "Or perhaps they imagined nothing!" The laughter suddenly stopped. "Or perhaps the greatest danger comes not from the Archdemon. Who's to say?" Despite her carefree, absent air, I felt she had some sort of purpose as she meandered to Aiden. "What do you think, great fire?"

"I am not certain of your question, mistress," Aiden answered slowly. He kept his gaze on the ground and only the tensing of his shoulders betrayed that he had been surprised.

"No? Then you are fine with things as they are for your people? You don't think there is danger hiding away in their hearts and minds?"

"I know not what you mean."

"No, you keep from thinking of them, for fear of your anger making the world run _red_." Aiden twitched at the word, making me frown. What was wrong with red? "Mmm, I wonder how long you plan to hide that little… trauma?" Aiden did not respond. "I see." And then she twirled past him to come face to face with me. I froze at her gaze, feeling like a rabbit staring down a wolf. "Now, what say you, girl with coloring too bright for her name?"

"P-pardon?" I stammered, unable to do much else.

"What dangers do you think exist? Perhaps in the Circle?"

"It is only the revolutionaries who would even attempt to cause trouble."

"Like Jowan?" I nearly collapsed in shock. How did she know that name? "Mmm, perhaps not. He's too… weak-willed, isn't he? But what of, say, Anders? He's got more than enough fire in him."

"Anders would _never_ -!"

"He has seen more of the traumas than you ever will, girl. Fear and pain lead to terrible things." I could not breath as she stepped closer. "Can you truly say that your precious Circle is safe? Can you say that no war will erupt? Perhaps now? Perhaps _later_?"

"Perhaps not at all?" Cleon interrupted, tugging me behind him. I was grateful for the protection. I had _no idea_ how she would know Jowan and Anders and that terrified me.

"Perhaps indeed. You're learning!" the woman laughed before leaning towards Cleon. "As for you… do you really think you can hide that forever?"

"I know not what you're talking about," Cleon growled. Yet as he took one step back, his leg collapsed under him. "Whoa!" By some miracle, Aiden caught him before he hit the ground. I was glad for that as we all crowded around him. I would not have been able to. "Sorry, must've mistepped." But there was nothing to even slide on.

"No, it's the Taint," Alistiar noted grimly. He looked almost pained as he studied Cleon. "Well, my friend, we'd better get you to the Joining _fast_. You're going to waste away if not."

"I'm _fine_."

"My, my, I admire your stubbornness, little one," the old woman chuckled. Her eyes glittered with anticipation. "I could, perhaps, ease the pain a bit." What? Well, if it could help…

All thoughts froze at Nuada's cold, calm reply. "With all due respect, I am afraid we must refuse." His smile disappeared as he planted himself in front of all of us. In fact, he looked almost angry. What was going on?

The woman seemed amused. "It would make things easier."

"But I still must refuse, for I do not think any of us will like the price you put on it when his cure is not long in coming."

"Clever. Did he teach you that?"

"With all your wisdom, _my lady_ , I'm certain you can divine the answer for yourself."

"I suppose so." She smiled, but it only made me more fearful. "But I am curious. If he told you all that, did he perhaps tell you something else? Something like… a Blight that would occur long after he was gone from Fereldan's soil?"

"Surely, _my lady_ , you know the answer to that already." Why did he emphasize the term 'my lady'? Was it meant to be an insult?

Her smile widened. "Hmm, yes, I guess so. But what about the other piece of warning? The one Maric never heeded." Nuada's face blanked and I tried to figure out who 'Maric' was. "Or did you hear that piece of information and deem it so hurtful that you threw it away, so that you could continue to smile and laugh like a fool?" Huh?

"Your wounds wound me."

"Like the assassin daggers? Coated in paralyzing poison?"

"I know not what you mean, I am afraid." Nuada's smile returned then. It looked bright and carefree. "However, we really must be getting Cleon back."

"First smart thing he's done," Cleon growled. He looked annoyed. "You shouldn't talk back to her."

"I'll do more than that, if that's what it takes to get you out _without_ her help. There are other options."

"…This is true."

"I fell left out," I complained, unable to really help myself. I disliked not knowing something. "What are you two talking about?"

"Leaving," Cleon stated firmly. "We're leaving now."

"Yes, yes, go on," the woman agreed. "And don't mind me." She laughed softly and it sent chills down my spine. "You have what you came for. Morrigan?" Her daughter started. "Lead them out. They are your guests, after all. You must treat them kindly."

"I… oh, very well," Morrigan sighed. She sounded so despondent over the thought. "Follow me, then."

"Aiden, can you get him on my back?" Nuada requested as Morrigan walked right on past us. He was very careful to not keep his gaze off the old woman. "I can fight one handed if need be."

"Certainly, milord," Aiden agreed. Cleon opened his mouth to protest, but Aiden shut it with a quick flick to the jaw. "You're not allowed to do _anything_. Consider it punishment for not telling."

"Dread Wolf, take these fool," Cleon grumbled as the two settled him on Nuada's back. I could not help but notice how tiny he looked compared to them. But, then again, I am even smaller… "Bah!"

"I'm sure a wolf won't want a dog lord," Nuada joked cheerfully as he walked after Morrigan, who showed no signs of stopping. "Come, think of how much fun you'll have while you curse my ears blue."

"How did you know of the Dread Wolf's wariness around dogs?"

"I don't think I did? I don't recall it from the songs we had in our library. I was more referring to how our mabari are said to scent werewolves."

"Oh."

"You can rattle off the tale in between curses, though. I'd like that."

"Bah!"

"I honestly can't tell if they're going to kill each other or not," Alistair sighed heavily. He glanced behind at the hut as Daveth and Ser Jory hurried onward. The two of them looked a little disgruntled by everything. "Come on, though. Best not let them go too far ahead."

"Well, then let us hope she does not lead us into a bog," I mumbled, following Alistair, Daveth, and Ser Jory.

But, Aiden shook his head as we walked to tell me he didn't think it was necessarily. "I think her mother still has business with us," he explained. "So, Mistress Layla, we should be fine."

"I hope so." I would very much like for this black feeling in my chest to be proven wrong. "We are falling behind. Let us catch up."

"Of course."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's Flemeth! Yay! And Cleon's stubbornness finally wears off. Haha… I can never seem to write Flemeth as a harmless old woman. I _have_ to show off her creepiness.
> 
> Nuada and Cleon have more talking with Flemeth here simply because unlike the others, they know (or, rather, have a very strong hunch) of who she is. Nuada more so _mostly_ because he's not the one that's crippled. Also, Cleon's taught to be respectful; Nuada was taught to not trust her. For those wondering about the 'my lady' insult, I'll explain it better in another chapter.  
>  If you're curious about the nicknames she gives the group, it's based on their name meanings.
> 
> Next Chapter – Preparing for the Joining with Aiden


	19. Chapter 18) The Last Night

**Chapter 18) The Last Night**

_Aiden POV_

* * *

" _Valendrian, do you like being the hahren?" I asked one day as I helped pick weeds in front of his house. "It seems like all you do is solve arguments."_

" _Well, I suppose so," he chuckled as he carved something from an old stick. "But it's my job to do so, and is a trade off for the limited power I have."_

" _Trade-off?"_

" _All power has it's price, child. But no one wants to admit it."_

" _Why?"_

" _Probably because most of those who want power don't want to pay the price. Always accept it, though. It's the only way you'll stay sane." A tiny piece of wood went flying. "Well, you're young. You won't have to worry about it for a while now. And since you've worked so hard, how about a story?"_

" _Okay!"_

* * *

I dunked the cloth into a bowl of cold water. I probably should've been surprised it was still cold, considering how long it had been sitting out, but I wasn't. After all, it had been magically chilled by a mage friend of Layla's, a kind and gentle old woman who reminded me of Valendrian. She'd come into the tent provided to us by King Cailan as we settled Cleon into the cot and fixed it up before taking Layla away. A good thing, since Layla had been nearly in hysterics over how helpless she felt. Lord Nuada had left not long after, to check in with King Cailan, Teyrn Loghain, and Lady Elspeth. This left me alone with the increasingly ill Cleon. I wasn't sure if that was a blessing or not. I hadn't even been able to save my _dad_.

"Abelas, lethalin," he mumbled from underneath all the blankets. He'd complained of cold, and there'd been an influx of blankets as soon as I let a soldier outside know. Almost all of them had been sent by Lady Elspeth. "Abelas…"

"I don't even know what you're saying, but I'm assuming it's an apology," I reply, taking the cloth out of the water and wringing it out to set on his forehead. "And don't. There's no need for it."

"Sorry." He tried to smile back, but it looked more like a grimace. Flames, he looked horrible, though. Paler than cotton, I could pick out the individual veins in his face, veins that seemed far more black than they should've been. Red splotches broke out on his neck and hands. His eyes were duller than stone and seemed to just sink into his head. Then there was the fact that he could, literally, only breath and talk. He couldn't move anything else. "How much… longer?"

"Master Duncan and Ser Alistair are setting up as we speak. It shouldn't be much longer." Ser Alistair had, in fact, implied they were only waiting on one or two more pieces when he came by to check earlier. "Just hold on a bit longer."

"About all I _can_ do. Sorry."

"If you're really sorry, you can _not_ hide how bad you're off," I scolded. "I about had a heart attack when you fell and only Ser Alistair and Lord Nuada had a clue what had happened."

"I… all right."

"There we go."

"…How's Layla?"

"Hysterical when she was led away." I saw no reason to not be blunt. "And devastated that she could do nothing for you." She was a healer, a healer _mage_ , and she felt helpless. This Taint, whatever exactly it was, seemed to be a very strong force. And now we were having to combat it to prevent it from spreading. Maker, help us.

"…Sorry…"

"Stop apologizing."

"You do it a lot." I did? "Most of you city elves do."

"Sorry." …Ah.

He grinned. "Told you," he teased.

I almost retorted, but he suddenly winced and his breath turned to pants and gasps. "Cleon!" I launched to my feet, leaning over him to see if I could... well.. _see_ what was wrong. Nothing, of course. Just more veins and blotches. "Cleon?"

"I'm… I'm fine…" he managed. His voice was far too thin. "Just a… a spasm or something. I'm… I'll be fine." At least he was finally accepting that he _wasn't_ fine. "It's passing. I'm okay."

"All right…" I murmured, settling back in my chair. I felt the cloth on his head and found it still cool. "Does that even help?"

"It reminds me I can still feel something other than pain. Trust me. That's _very_ helpful."

"…Are you glad you left your Clan now?" The question just slipped out. "Sorry, that's not any of mine-"

"A little." I snapped my jaw shut with an audible clack as he answered. "I still hate that I can't be with them. But… Creators, there's no way I could've bore them seeing me like this." He smiled slightly. "I can barely stand it with _you_ , lethalin, and I've only known you for a few weeks."

"That's your pride talking," I teased. He managed a chuckle, and fell silent. That's when I felt it again. That feeling I'd had ever since Cleon collapsed. No, I'd had it earlier, when we walked into Ostagar in the first place. "Hey, Cleon?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you feel like you're about to die?" Yes, that was what this feeling was. That heavy weight of death's hand on my shoulder while the sickle moves for my neck.

"Aiden, I'm laid up in bed," he reminded me dryly. "I've had the feeling since I encountered the damn Eluvian." The what? "I've just been fighting it. Why?"

"Because I don't know why I'm feeling it now."

"Good instincts." I nearly yelped at Lord Nuada's voice and whirled to see him step inside the tent. "That's all," he continued easily with a soft smile. "How are you feeling, Cleon?"

"Bite me, noble," he immediately groaned.

"Well, if you _really_ want me to…" He laughed at Cleon's glare. "Nice to see you're doing fine."

"Aside from the whole feelings of death that you say is good instincts."

"Well, it is. We are all about to die."

Silence fell at the nonchalant remark and Lord Nuada took the opportunity to find a spot to sit on the floor "My lord, you can have my chair!" I immediately yelped, moving to stand. It was… it was absolutely rude and improper for an elf to be seated higher than a noble!

"Nah, I like the floor," Lord Nuada dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Besides, I need to give my neck a break." It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. Lord Nuada was not the tallest person, only half a head taller than me, but he likely had to look down slightly to look most people in the eye. "So this suits me just fine. Please, stay in your seat."

As I settled myself back down, Cleon asked the question that hung in the air. "What do you mean we're going to die?" he demanded. He struggled to push himself up, but just… just _couldn't_. I could see the frustration even more than I could hear it in his voice. "I've been told this Joining is a cure."

"It's a _potential_ cure," Lord Nuada corrected softly. "If you can really call it that. It's no salvation. Not really. It's probably better than dying from paralysis-induced suffocation. _That_ is very painful." …Why did he sound like he was speaking from experience? "But it's not a 'saving'. The Joining might kill you straight out." What? "If it doesn't, you're a Warden, but… well, you'll still die. The average tends to be about thirty years, according to Uncle Duncan, but there are some _wildly_ different numbers."

"Why?" I asked. I couldn't help it. "Why will it bring us a slow death, my lord?"

"…Well, I don't know the specifics of the Joining, but it involves inviting the Taint in through the darkspawn blood and some other strange ingredients," Lord Nuada answered. I merely stared. I'd thought gathering the blood had merely been something symbolic. A trophy for the kill. "Essentially, the Joining is an accelerated version of what Cleon's going through right now. There's just some way we can master it too."

"Just great," Cleon groaned. I was certain if he could, he'd have punched something. "Why don't you know how?"

"Well, see, I only know all this because Elspeth got mad and pried the information out of visiting Wardens." He flashed a grin. "Elspeth didn't ask about how it all worked, specifically."

"So, we will be unable to return to a normal life, milord?" I asked softly. It… made sense, of course. I had certainly not expected to return to the Alienage. But to here it so… well, bluntly was disorienting. "At all?"

"Well, you can try," Lord Nuada replied slowly. "I've heard of a few who have. However, you'll never escape the darkspawn, in the end. Becoming a Warden is a weighted honor, and certainly no prize. It's a duty that someone _must_ shoulder. Few will understand what we sacrifice, and even fewer will want to. That's our burden." Despite sitting on the cold ground, Lord Nuada held himself as if he were delivering a speech in front of the Landsmeet. "We guard the living from the shadows that wish to taint and devour them. We'll die for it. That's all there is to it."

"And you agreed to do this, knowing all that," Cleon stated incredulously. "You must be mad, noble."

"I'm a Cousland. Insanity gallops through the family, but we've learned how to hide it and take control of the reins." Lord Nuada grinned and I found myself caught by the light in his eyes. The light that inspired hundreds, thousands even, to follow their path wherever it led. The bright and confident look that marked every Cousland success, and there were many. "It is the way I can best fulfill my duty, so it is the path I've chosen, despite the risks. It is nothing more, yet nothing less."

"And your sister?"

"Elspeth accepts it, just as I accept her path into diplomacy and politics."

"…I see."

"Did… did you come in here to warn us, my lord?" I asked softly. "Before the Joining itself?" If that were the case, had he warned Mistress Layla?

Lord Nuada fell silent as a thoughtful yet conflicted look crossed his face. "I've been debating," he answered after a moment. "You aren't supposed to know. I got _very_ lucky. But it didn't seem right to not share."

"So?"

"I decided to come here, though, for decidedly different reasons. I hadn't figured out if I was going to warn or not."

"What reasons?"

"Give Alistair the opportunity to give those gorgeous flowers to Elspeth without an audience?" …Flowers?

"Wait, he picked them for Elspeth?" Cleon asked. So, he knew what was going on? "I thought he was just being a weird shem."

"Nah, he just noticed Elspeth was sad, so he picked flowers," Lord Nuada laughed. "He looked so flustered, though, that I had to minimize the embarrassment somehow! Besides, Elspeth would never forgive me for cracking a rib from laughing too hard."

"So you came here?"

"Well, yeah? Can't a guy be worried about a fellow?" He grinned. "Here, we've some time. I can tell you that and a few other hilarious stories."

"Such as?"

"Well, how about this story of how Uncle Loghain managed to get his head stuck in a fence?"

" _Yes_!" I wondered if the reason behind Cleon's enthusiasm was because he was still smarting of Teyrn Loghain's king comment from this morning. "Please!"

"Okay, but, seriously, let me tease about Alistair first. Trust me. It was _hilarious_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? No Layla? Yeah, Layla has the most exposure, due to being the first protagonist introduced, so I opted to have her mentioned here in this short little chapter and just have the boys interact with one another. Why a break chapter? Well, mostly for the dialogue, and to create a sense of time between arriving at the Camp and the Joining itself? Sorry it's so short? We've had a lot of long ones recently.
> 
> Next Chapter – The Joining with Nuada


	20. Chapter 19) The Joining

**Chapter 19) The Joining**

_Nuada POV_

* * *

" _Nuada?" Elspeth called. Since she sounded worried, I swung down from the mess hall's rafters to land on the table next to her. She didn't even twitch, of course. She was used to my antics. "There you are."_

" _Yeah, I'm here!" I teased, grinning. "What do you need?"_

" _I asked Uncle Duncan about the Wardens." The stony look in her eyes told me that it hadn't been simple asking. She'd done her trick again. "So, listen to me."_

" _We'd better head to our rooms or something to not be overheard. Father will pitch a fit if he knew Uncle Duncan tried to recruit me."_

" _I know." And it went unsaid that was the reason why she'd interrogated our beloved, and adoptive, uncle. She wasn't too happy about it either. "Let's go."_

* * *

"Ugh… Dread Wolf take you, noble."

"Yeah, yeah. You can say that again when you don't look like a walking corpse."

"Hnn…" It was a testament to just how tired, and close to death, Cleon was that he didn't retort to my reply. I shifted his weight on my back, making sure he was balanced. Aiden, walking beside me, helped keep him steady as we walked from the tent to some out of the way corner of the ruin.

"It's nice to see he's still breathing," Alistair noted grimly. He'd come to fetch us mere minutes ago, and kept glancing at Cleon like he expected him to die at any moment. Actually, he probably did. "We don't have much time."

"Is that why you came to get us instead of blushing at my twin sister?" I teased to lighten the mood. He immediately yelped in protest. "Come on! You were so blushing and awkward!"

"I thought I offended her, so I tried to apologize!" Elspeth had actually been so startled that she couldn't remember her manners for a minute. So, technically speaking, it was all her fault, but I'd tease her later.

For now, Alistair was my target. "Well, relax, you didn't offend her. If anything, I'm sure she found it _adorable_."

"Sure, adorable. Just the thing for someone to think of me."

"Is there something wrong with that, ser?" Aiden asked politely. He shifted Cleon up higher up my back and I adjusted my grip to account for the movement. Cleon just grumbled something I couldn't make out. He was getting really bad, really fast. The face he pressed into my neck was clammy and cold one second, and then burned like a flame the next.

"I… well…" Alistair flailed for a word before sighing. "Never mind. Oh, look, we're here." We were indeed. Ser Jory, Layla, and Daveth had beaten us here, having obviously been waiting a while. Ser Jory paced, muttering under his breath. Layla casually swung her legs as she sat down on the side of the platform. Daveth was carving something from a piece of wood. I felt a pang of guilt. Yes, I had informed Aiden and Cleon about the Joining, but not these three. With Alistair nearby, I doubted I'd have the chance. How much terror would they go through, because I hesitated too long? Damn me for the idiocy.

"Ah, greetings!" Layla called, hopping to her feet and waving at us as we walked up. "I am glad to see you." She certainly looked it, with the bright smile lighting up her face. "Do be careful, though, for Ser Jory-"

"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it," Ser Jory grumbled as soon as he saw us, seizing an opportunity to complain. Not knowing what to say, I set Cleon down behind one of the pillars on the side. He immediately leaned into it, having no strength to sit up on his own. Damn, this needed to move quickly.

"Are you blubbering _again_?" Daveth grumbled, looking more than a little annoyed. He waved to us before focusing a glower Ser Jory's way. "Seriously?"

"Why are these damned tests? Have I… we… not earned our places yet?"

"Maybe it's tradition. Or maybe they're just trying to annoy you. Who's to say?"

"Please, no fighting," Layla requested hesitantly. She stepped closer to Aiden, glancing worriedly at Cleon. "We are going to be working together, yes?" If we all survived, we would.

Ser Jory sighed heavily. "I am… not trying to fight," he mumbled. "I am… aggravated. If I had been told of the tests, I wouldn't have left my Helena." This was, of course, the reason _why_ the Wardens kept their secrets.

"Well, I've always heard the Wardens do what they must," Daveth noted absently. He had good instincts.

"Including sacrifices?" That was all being a Warden was about. Sacrificing yourself to protect everyone from a threat they ignored.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight." Daveth would make a good Warden. "You saw those darkspawn, ser knight. Wouldn't you die to protect your pretty wife from them?"

"I…" He looked thoughtful. "I would do anything to protect her. But I'm not sure of leaving her behind to mourn my passing. I'd rather live and continue protecting her." Well, I knew someone who was in _the worst place possible_.

"Brave words, but if nobody stops the darkspawn, we're all dead for sure, right?"

"I… suppose." He sighed again. "I've never faced a foe I could not engage with my blade. This? This seems… strangely elusive and foreboding."

"Well…" I began lightly. How much could I tell? Honestly, I doubted it would be much. But I could tell them this one sentence. "That's because it is."

"H-huh?"

"At last, we come to the Joining." We all looked up as Uncle Duncan approached, carrying a large silver goblet. The dark crimson liquid inside sloshed with each careful step. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation," he began, setting the goblet down on the table nearby. It had likely been set up just for this purpose. "So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank the blood of their enemies and mastered the Taint."

Next to me, Layla tried to muffle her gasp and, absently, I took her hand and squeezed reassuringly. The fact that she leaned into me told me she was grateful for it. "Is this not blood magic?" she wondered aloud anyway, clearly unnerved.

"I will not lie and state it is not similar. However, Wardens will actually allow the use of blood magic in our efforts to combat the darkspawn." I heard a few gasps, but I shrugged it off. There were poisons and draughts that could do similar things to blood magic. The scariest thing about it is the mind control, but a skilled manipulator can do just the same with simple words. "However, this is, ultimately, not the same, Layla. You need not worry."

"Still, we are… going to drink the _blood_ of those… those creatures?" Ser Jory shakily asked, staring at the goblet. I bet they were all putting the pieces together about the vials collected earlier.

"Yes, as the first Wardens did," Uncle Duncan repeated, nodding at Alistair. "Just as we did before you, and all other Wardens. This is the source of our power, and victory." 'In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice.' So went the ancient Warden motto, and it was one they adhered to most faithfully.

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the Taint," Alistair explained for Uncle Duncan, speaking up for the first time. I noticed the white lie, but ignored it. "We can sense it in the darkspawn, and it is vital to combating the Archdemon." Sadly, I did not know just why that was. Simple skill never seemed like enough of an explanation, but no books detailed it, and Elspeth hadn't asked. Perhaps after the battle, she'd find out for us? That is, if Uncle Duncan didn't explain.

"Those… those who survive will?" Layla repeated shakily. I closed my eyes and deeply regretted not making more of an effort to warn her ahead of time. She looked so scared. "What do you mean?"

"Not all those who drink the blood will make it," Uncle Duncan answered slowly. He sent me a curious look, but I shrugged. He nodded, and smiled slightly. Well, I was glad to know that he, at least, was happy at some secrets being kept. "Those who do are forever changed. It is a price we must pay and, thus, kept secret."

"Looks like I was right," Daveth muttered, glancing at the paling Ser Jory. "Not sure how happy I am about that."

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining." Uncle Duncan kept on going, ignoring the signs of panic. "But they have been spoken since the first. Alistair?"

Alistair nodded, and brought his head down, as if in prayer. "Join us, brothers and sisters," he began softly. I ducked my head down too, mostly to avoid looking at the others. "Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant." Layla, still holding my hand, mouthed a silent prayer. "Join us, as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn." Aiden, on my other side, clenched his fist. Was he angry? "Should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten." I thought I heard Ser Jory muffle a yelp. "And know that, one day, we shall join you."

When I looked up, Uncle Duncan had the goblet in hand again. It was time. "Cleon, you shall be the first," he murmured, turning to the Dalish elf. The only sign he had heard was the half shrug. "Alistair, assist him, please."

"Of course." Alistair took the goblet from Uncle Duncan and brought it to Cleon. "Here, you need to open your mouth," he whispered. Cleon opened bleary eyes and tried to reach for the cup. "No, I'm not letting you have it. Just open your mouth." Somehow, Cleon managed some sort of glare before doing so. "And this is going to be vile. Make sure you don't spit it out." Alistair carefully tipped the goblet, allowing some of the liquid to trickle into Cleon's mouth. A bit ran down his chin, but he apparently got enough to swallow as Alistair sat back. Cleon groaned, and shook, slumping over before just… suddenly flopping down, like a puppet whose strings were snapped.

"Is he all right?" Aiden whispered into my ear as Alistair checked. "He just… I don't know…"

"Well, he was already Tainted," I reminded. Still, I saw the smile Alistair had. "I think he's fine though."

"Oh?"

"He's alive, Duncan," Alistair called, confirming my suspicion. Aiden and Layla both breathed a sigh of relief. "Here." He handed the goblet back to Uncle Duncan. "Should I move him?" Uncle Duncan shook his head, only letting a small smile betray his relief. "All right."

"Daveth," Uncle Duncan called, moving the ceremony along. Daveth stood ramrod straight at his name. "Step forward."

"Sir," Daveth mumbled. He carefully took the goblet from Uncle Duncan and took a single sip. Uncle Duncan managed to take the goblet and step back before Daveth started twisting and writhing, shaking his head as if something had crawled into it. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he groaned and screamed in pain.

But then blood seeped from his eyes and Daveth clawed at his throat as he began coughing up blood. I held Layla back as she tried to rush to his side. She looked at me with wide eyes, but I only shook my head. _No_ magic could save him now, and it was pointless to try. "But…!" she tried to protest. I held her firm. "No…"

"I am sorry, Daveth," Uncle Duncan murmured, as the thief from Denerim flopped to the ground, convulsing and spewing out blood. I had honestly thought he'd survive. But he soon collapsed into the puddle and stilled, unmoving.

"Maker…" Aiden breathed, calm façade cracking. I glanced up as he shook his head, stepping back. "That's…"

"Harsh, but at least it's quick," Alistair murmured from his seat in the corner. He looked pained. "Better than others."

"With all due respect, ser, I'm not certain how reassuring that is."

Ser Jory certainly didn't think it was, if he had heard the words at all as he stumbled back from the corpse. "No…" he breathed, shaking his head. "No…!"

"Step forward, Jory," Uncle Duncan ordered, turning to the knight. "It is your turn."

"But… but I have a wife. A child! If… had I known…"

Uncle Duncan moved towards him. "There is no turning back."

"No! You… you ask too much!" I noticed Ser Jory reach for his sword, and tried to shout a warning. But it was too late. The sword came out and I winced away as Uncle Duncan killed him easily. What a…it was a wasteful death, truly. If he hadn't drawn weapon, it would've been fine. He could've become a Warden ally, and not have to leave his beloved, and pregnant, wife a widow. Assuming, of course, that his wife had not already died because of… of something I was going to ignore until there was actually a _time_ to remember.

"The Wardens do what they must, milord?" Aiden asked me softly as Uncle Duncan casually removed his knife and let Ser Jory fall with a muffled splat. Blood pooled under the corpse.

"If they're attacked, then yes, they do," I whispered back. "He should've just said he was scared."

"Would Master Duncan let him?"

"He would've had more of a chance."

"I see. A terrible secret."

"Well, besides me, who would join knowing the cost?"

"The incredibly insane, milord."

"I said _besides_ me."

"The Joining is not yet complete," Uncle Duncan helpfully reminded us as he picked up the goblet again. He was splattered with blood, but ignored it. He'd been covered too many times to notice anymore. "As you have been called upon to serve the greater good."

"Oh, please no…" Layla whimpered. I glanced down to see her shaking. "Please, Maker…"

"You'll be fine," I reassured, squeezing her hand again. She looked up at me, and I tried to smile confidently to ease the fear flooding her face. "You'll be just fine, Layla."

"H-how do you kn-know?" Her other, far too small, hand gripped my sleeve. "I… I am not…"

"You're stubborn and beautiful." A flush replaced the terror. "Also, I just know."

"That… that is not very reassuring." Still, she smiled a bit. "Thank you, though."

"You're welcome." I looked up and saw Uncle Duncan approach. "Ladies first, my lady."

"How thoughtful you are." Hey, she was capable of sarcasm! "Oh, here goes…"

"You'll be fine. Focus on that."

"Very well." She glanced at Aiden and me before taking the sip. She handed it back quickly, covering her mouth to make sure she didn't spit out the liquid. It wasn't long, though, before she was whimpering, tears slipping down her face as she shook, crouching down in pain. She kept her hands over her mouth, though, to silence any potential screams or sobs as she endured. Then, just as suddenly as Cleon, she fell to her side, no blood in sight.

Alistair appeared at her side, and did a quick check. "She lives, Duncan," he informed us, smiling. "I'll set her up next to Cleon."

"Thank you, Alistair," Uncle Duncan murmured. As Alistair gathered Layla up in his arms and carried her off, he turned his attention to Aiden. "Step forward."

"I… very well, Master Duncan," Aiden sighed. He took the sip just as the others did, but stepped back before Uncle Duncan could to put space between them. He immediately, however, went down on his knees, gripping his shoulders tightly as he gritted his teeth against the pain. The sight of blood on his face startled me, but when I knelt to look, I saw it was only from his mouth. He'd bitten the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.

Finally, though, he fell forward. I caught him before he could hit the pavement. Before I could say anything, Alistair appeared on his other side, formally confirming what I, at least, already knew. "Alive and well," Alistair stated, grinning now. "I'll… figure out some way to get him out of the way."

I chuckled as I stood, letting Alistiar struggle under Aiden's weight. Uncle Duncan was already near, goblet in hand. "Aw, saving the best for last?" I cracked, getting a slight smile from Uncle Duncan. It faded, though, as he handed me the cup. "Well, let's see if this tastes better than Orzammar's ale! That stuff tasted like dirt!" Though, considering it was actually made from dirt or lichen or something, that wasn't very surprising. "Bottom's up." I downed the last little bit of the bloody mixture, as if it were a pint at the Gnawed Noble Tavern.

Well, this was it. I knew it as the fire burned through my veins, the ice settled in my throat and gut, and painful screams and songs echoed through my head. Would I live or would I die? Either way, my old life was gone forever.

From this moment forth, I was finally on the path I'd chosen.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Here we are! The Joining! The turning point of no return! About, maybe, five minutes of gameplay. Oh well. Cleon didn't get a painful reaction because he was already Tainted. Varied the others just because. Individuality. The crack about Orzammar ale is something Oghren will complain about in game. Gnawed Noble Tavern is a Tavern in Denerim that plays a semi-important part later in the game.
> 
> Next Chapter – Strategizing with Cleon.


	21. Chapter 20) The Strategy

**Chapter 20) The Strategy**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

" _Cleon, stop squirming," Zaphikel scolded as he held me still. I tried to obey, but it was hard. I couldn't think of why this was important. A hunter just shot things, right? "We're not done with the lesson."_

" _All right," I muttered, pouting. The other dalen were learning how to run and shoot. Me? I was stuck with these 'strategy games' for some stupid reason._

"… _This will help you, and it's best to learn it now."_

" _Why?"_

" _Because, Cleon, I don't think the Creators intend for you to be a simple hunter." My pout disappeared at the strange words, and turned into a frown when I noticed the far-off look in his eyes. What was he seeing? "So, I will prepare you for that, as best as I am able, for as long as I can."_

" _I don't want to be anything but a hunter, though?"_

" _The Creators will for the best of all, not the best of one. The needs of the few must be taken care of by mortals." That… made my head hurt a little. "Complete this game to satisfaction, and I will show you how to walk the trees."_

" _Yes, sir!"_

* * *

When I woke up, I was startled by how… _well_ I felt. I'd thought the whole 'becoming a Warden' thing would leave me feeling… something else? Not as bad as the Taint, but definitely some sort of weight. Instead, though, I felt free. Energized. Capable of practically anything. Like I was racing through the forest after some sort of prey. Was it simply the relief of being able to move and breath without struggling? Or something else? I honestly wasn't sure.

Nevertheless, the elation at being alive and well didn't hide my confusion for long. After all, I was in an unknown bed, in an unknown tent. I assumed I was still at Ostagar, but other than that? I had nothing. Pushing myself up didn't reveal much else. Just that the thing was huge, and that there were a couple of tables beside the cot I was on. Tables filled with books and framed sketches. Peculiar. Where was I?

I glanced around and found, to my relief, I wasn't the only one here. Layla was on a cot next to me, in fact. Nuada and Aiden were also here on their own cots, a little farther away. All asleep, I guessed, though Nuada's back was to me. But… but no one else. Had Ser Jory and Daveth died? …Honestly, I wasn't too surprised by Ser Jory's death. Felt bad about it, but he wasn't committed. Didn't know what he was getting into. But Daveth was a shock. It seemed like simple acceptance wasn't enough. Then what was? How did some people live through it, and other died? Simply the will of the Creators? Of course, if it was that, who was I to make a judgement.

Shaking my head, I picked up one of the books on the table. _Art of War_ , it proclaimed, and, when I opened it, I saw numerous pages marked for ease of going back to re-read. Strategies, all of them, and the book looked like it had been read many, many times. Whose was this?

"That's one of Cailan's favorites." I nearly dropped the damn thing as Nuada rolled over and told me that. When had he woken up?! "Oh, yay, I'm alive," he continued, shakily pushing himself up and completely ignoring my glower. He slumped over for a split second before straightening like it had never happened. Weird shem. "How are you feeling, Cleon?"

"Fantastic," I answered, setting the book down next to a sketch of a pretty woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Who was that? Obviously, someone the sketcher had adored. It was almost as good as the sketch I received of my parents from Hahren Paivel. "Better than ever, actually." And I really couldn't help but grin at how _amazing_ it was.

"That's good to hear." He stretched and pushed himself out of his makeshift bed, carefully stepping around the sleeping Layla to sit next to me. "Ah, so we're in Cailan's tent. That's good to know."

"How can you tell?"

"Cailan refuses to let his sketches out of his sight. He's a bit embarrassed by them, though the rest of us love them." …' _His_ '? Then the one who made this was one…? "That's Anora, by the way." He pointed to the picture that had caught my attention in the first place. "She's his wife, and Uncle Loghain's daughter." Then, this was the queen? They must be quite in love. "The picture next to hers is of Fergus. I don't think you got to meet him, did you?" Only a brief glimpse, and he certainly didn't look as relaxed as he did in the picture then. It _was_ easy, though, to see the family resemblance between the older and younger Cousland. They had similar profiles. "They're best friends, Fergus and Cailan."

"I see," I murmured before picking up another picture. I knew the two in it, but only just. Elspeth and Nuada looked _happy_ in it, and not the strange… whatever they were now. "So, he did one of you two, too?"

"It seems so. That must be a recent one. I haven't seen it before." He smiled softly. "He draws us a lot. Cailan always wanted to be a big brother, and we're the closest he has." Another shem like that walking around? Creators have mercy. "Do you have any other questions?"

"I do." Aiden, having woken up without my noticing, moved to join us as he held out a very stiff looking picture. Strange, compared to the others. They had looked… lifelike. "Who is this, milord?" he asked, handing it to Nuada. "I don't recognize her."

"This is Queen Rowan," Nuada answered easily. He shifted to get more comfortable before continuing. "She died when he was too young to really remember her, so he only has the official portraits to go on." Ah. I could understand _that_.

"Mmm, wha' are you talkin' abou'?" I smiled as Layla sleepily asked us what was going on. Of course, I jumped to my feet when she rolled off her cot and crashed to the ground. "…Ow…"

"Careful," I scolded, helping her up. She blinked blearily at me, rubbing at her eyes and tugging at her hair. "You're in a tent."

"I see." She yawned widely before looking up at me and smiling brightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful."

"That is good." She turned her attention to the others. "So, we all…"

"I told you that you'd be fine," Nuada teased, smiling softly as he picked up another picture. I noticed that his eyes actually darkened with a dull pain, and wondered why he didn't try to hide _this_ one. "We're discussing the sketches Cailan made, Layla, to answer your first question."

"Oh, he made these?" She made her way next to Nuada and sat down, looking over his arm. "Wait, who is this?"

"This is Uncle Maric, the previous king. He died five years ago." Oh, so he didn't deny things that happened long ago? Nice to know.

"I thought it was the current king."

"They look a lot alike, but Uncle Maric had more scars."

"I see."

"What about this one?" Aiden asked, pulling one at random. He winced when he caught sight of it, and I wondered why.

However, Nuada's suddenly stiff smile answered that for me before he opened his mouth. "Those are my parents, Aiden," he murmured. He made no move to take the picture, even as he set the other one down. "I distinctly remember you meeting them." Yeah. We did. "That was drawn on their anniversary last year. Those flowers Father is holding are his traditional gift." Oh, please don't tell us that. This was awkward enough. "Mother tells the story often of how Father confessed by giving her a flower, but not _actually_ saying anything because he was too shy and she had to ask Uncle Bryland and Uncle Re-" He stopped suddenly, and his smile faltered, but then it returned twice as bright. The scariest part was that I'd probably had taken it as real, if I hadn't known him. "It's a funny story. Elspeth tells it better, though." Creators, if you could help me figure out why this shemlen was being such an idiot to keep denying what had happened, that would be great.

"What story do I tell better?" Ah, so Elspeth was here now. Carrying two trays, one filled with food, and the other with cups. Both were balanced precariously. "Which one is he going about now?" she asked, not really bothered by all the little movements she had to do to make sure nothing fell. At least she was smiling for once. Small, but there. "It had best not be the one about the boar. I hate that one."

"Yet it is one of Uncle Loghain's favorite stories. It was our first Fereldan hunt, I baited out the boar, you shot it, and neither of us had meant to do either!" He laughed and got up to help his sister, pushing down Aiden when he tried to do the same. "He still can't believe it." As he took the tray, Elspeth seemed to whisper something in his ear and he nodded. "But no, I was talking about how Father confessed to Mother."

And just like that Elspeth's smile disappeared and all that was left was a breathing statue. "I see. Well, perhaps I will tell that tale, later." She set down her tray and stepped away. "Nuada?"

"I'll tell him." Huh? "You go do what you need to do."

"Thank you." She turned and managed a small smile at us. "Please, take your time to recover. Cailan won't be using the tent for a bit, after all, and there is only the battle left for the day." Like it would be that easy. "I will see you all later."

"Farewell!" Layla called as Elspeth left, popping up to help Nuada pass out the drinks and plates. Aiden seemed to almost twitch as he was served, looking distinctly confused and uncomfortable. "Why would the king lend us his tent?"

"We won't be disturbed here," Nuada answered easily, happily tucking into the food as he sat down on the floor. "Wow, this is surprisingly good. Aiden, you should eat. Battle coming up and all. You'll need the energy."

"Ah, yes, milord," Aiden mumbled. He moved a bit stiffly, squirming slightly. What was up with him? "What did she mean by 'tell him'?"

"Cleon and I have been invited to a strategy meeting." What? "That's all."

"He asked an elf?"

"Why not? Cleon is a Dalish, and Cailan wants more opinions and options." Nuada sipped a glass of water, studying the top of the tent. "Uncle Loghain is used to fighting humans, but darkspawn aren't exactly human. I fear Uncle Loghain hasn't quite realized they're not exactly something you can fight off and scare with simple army tactics."

"Do you not have faith in him?"

"I have total faith in my uncle." Yeah, but look at what the _last_ 'uncle' did. "He is a good man, a great soldier, and an even better strategist and tactician." What was the catch? "But Uncle Loghain never read much about the Wardens and darkspawn, or put faith in them. Cailan did." There it was.

"Fine," I sighed, biting into the food. It _did_ taste pretty good, but I was more pleased that I could feed myself. That feeling of paralysis… I wasn't forgetting _that_ anytime soon. "I'll go after we're done eating. But not before." Let them wait. We'd see if they were truly sincere about the help.

* * *

A messenger had waited outside the tent for Nuada and me to finish eating to lead us to the area where the last strategy meeting was being held. When we arrived, though, it looked like Shem-King Cailan and Teyrn Loghain were arguing and nothing substantial had happened. Other than making Duncan visibly exasperated, of course.

"Loghain, my decision is final," Shem-King Cailan growled, glaring at the older man. Neither of the arguers had noticed our arrival. "I will stand by the Wardens in this assault." Oh, what sort of stupid decision was that?

"You risk too much, Cailan," Teyrn Loghain sighed. He looked at the end of his patience, and incredibly tired. "The horde is too much for you to be playing hero on the frontlines." Now that was smart. Why not listen to the smart one?

"If _that's_ the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to arrive?" Wait, we had reinforcements? Why _weren't_ we waiting for them?

"I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the Orlesians to help defend ourselves." _Never mind_ about him being the smart one. What sort of idiot turned away help? …Okay, granted, I turned away help because… okay, Creators, you could stop laughing. I got the joke. Didn't change the fact that he was also being an idiot.

"It is not a fool notion." Good, smart one. Wait, no, he was also an… Creators, guide me. They were both smart and stupid, and they were _leading_ this army. "Our arguments with the Orleisans are a thing of the past." I… I had no idea if that was admirable or naïve. "And you will remember who is king." A strange stupid-smart fool of a shem.

"How _fortunate_ Maric did not live to see his own son so willingly hand Fereldan over to us who _enslaved_ us!"

"Actually, Uncle Maric would probably be the first to insist that there be a Fereldan to save," Nuada interrupted. I snickered as the three men jumped and whirled at his voice. Nuada, for his part, looked as good-natured as always. "But if you're so insistent, Uncle Loghain, then our current forces must suffice, yes?"

"Ah, Nuada!" Shem-King Cailan greeted, annoyance disappearing instantly for a warm smile. "And Ser Cleon, a pleasure to see you again." I was pleasantly surprised he didn't ignore me, even if I _had_ been asked for. "Looks like we can get the meeting underway." He waved us closer to the table set up, shifting to make sure everyone had enough room to look. I leaned over it, studied the map, and thought longingly of Zaphikel and his lessons. 'Not a simple hunter', he'd predicted. I wished he were alive for me to tell him he was right. Perhaps Falon'din would allow him to see it. "Duncan? Are your men ready?"

"Yes, they are," Duncan confirmed. He smiled proudly at Nuada and me, before continuing. "All that could make it, at least. Sadly, our forces were scattered to other countries for other duties." Making a small force even smaller. Damn.

"I am not certain trusting old legends will be of much help, Cailan," Teyrn Loghain grumbled. I caught Duncan's fist tighten behind his back, and wondered if this was an old argument. "We must attend to reality."

"One of which is that no Blight has ever been ended without the aid of Wardens," Nuada easily pointed out. His smile widened as Teyrn Loghain turned his glower on him, not the least bit unnerved. "I'd poke holes in Cailan's logic too, but we both know he won't listen." That got Teyrn Loghain to snort softly, and Shem-King Cailan to make a face.

"All right, all right," Shem-King Cailan sighed. "Let's get on with your strategy then." He leaned over the map and pointed at a section. "The Wardens, myself, and the frontline soldiers will draw the forces here." He drew a line at a slightly narrow part of the map. Good place for funneling.

"Yes," Teyrn Loghain agreed. He pointed at small rectangle on the map. "You will alert the Tower when it seems like the majority of the horde has left the forest." Ah. "Lighting it will signal my men to charge and-"

"And flank the darkspawn. Yes, I remember. Between the two forces, we should crush them."

I saw one flaw immediately. Timing. If timing wasn't precise, then the whole thing would fall apart. "You'll need a retreat plan," I noted bluntly, drumming my fingers on the table. "And a messaging system to let the people on the field know about it. Otherwise, everyone is going to die if this goes wrong." Too many. I didn't care how skilled Wardens were supposed to be.

"You'll also need something about making sure the message can reach whoever is in the Tower," Nuada added, frowning slightly. What caused that? My pointing out the flaw? "Really, we just need lots of messengers and redundancies, just in case." No, that wasn't it, then. Why? "Who's already stationed there?"

"A few of my men," Teyrn Loghain answered. "It's not dangerous, but it is vital."

"Your majesty?" A bald man wearing robes similar to Layla's walked up then. "Such things are unnecessary," he informed him. "Our spells-"

"We will not risk the men's lives on your spells, mage," an older woman wearing an elaborate gold and crimson dress. Who was _she_?

"Right, because you're totally not depending on them for healing and blowing stuff up," I deadpanned, not amused. "Shemlen. Never making sense."

"Don't you _dare_ insult me, you knife-ear-!"

"Cailan, make sure her name gets to me," Nuada interrupted coolly, with a charming smile. A slight chill went down my spine at the sight. The woman's face paled to snow-white. "I intend on reporting her to the Grand Cleric for derogatory statements and interfering with proper strategy during a time of war."

"I see no quarrel in that," Shem-King Cailan agreed easily, not even bothering to acknowledge the woman. "All right, so a mage message. What would work best?" He frowned before turning to Duncan. "Duncan, can you spare Layla?" Huh? "She's obviously skilled." Yeah, but Layla had a small problem with fire.

"I see no reason to not," Duncan answered anyway. I almost balked, but Nuada tapped me on the shoulder and motioned to the map. Frowning, I tried to figure out what he was saying, but it soon clicked. This would get peaceful Layla _off_ the battlefield. Okay, I could agree to that. Just had to let whoever was with her know that she had a fear. "But who should send the message to her?"

"Wynne," Mage Uldred answered easily, smirking at the glowering chantry woman. "It's a basic ability, so anyone can, but it works best with a strong connection. Wynne is well known for being like a mother to little Layla." …Why did I have a feeling he was mocking both 'Wynne' and Layla? "It should work well."

"You'll need someone to guard Layla, then, in case something happens in the ruins," I pointed out. I glanced at Nuada before adding dryly, "Maybe someone who can almost decapitate people with a blasted shield."

"Nuada, did you do that damned trick again?" Teyrn Loghain sighed. Wait, they knew just from… what did he mean 'again'? "Still, I rather like that idea." Wait, no, that was supposed to be a joke. "So, just him-"

"No, we should send Alistair too," Shem-King Cailan interrupted. He and Teyrn Loghain shared a look, but it was the latter looked away first. "Just in case. Those ruins are old. Even if darkspawn aren't going to make it in, the ceiling could give way or something. So, Nuada and Alistair both." Huh? Uh… okay…

"Your majesty, you should consider the possibility of the Archdemon or one of the Vanguard Generals appearing," Duncan spoke up then. He wasn't really paying attention to us, but the forest.

"There have been no signs of dragons in the wilds," Teyrn Loghain dismissed. I frowned at that. What would be a 'sign' of a dragon? "Or of anything stronger than a simple Hurlock alpha." A _what_?

"Besides, Duncan," Shem-King Cailan began with a cocky grin. "Isn't that what your men are here for?" Okay, too much faith. Too much faith!

"I…" Duncan sighed, bringing his attention back to us. "Yes, your majesty."

"Enough," Teyrn Loghain sighed, pushing himself up from the table. "This plan will suffice. The Wardens will light the beacon after receiving a mage message."

"Thank you, Loghain," Shem-King Cailan murmured. Something in the way he said it made me wonder just what all he was trying to thank the older man for. "Ah, I cannot wait for that glorious moment." _Stop with the glorious stuff, you idiot!_

"Yes, Cailan…" Teyrn Loghain turned away. "A glorious moment for us all." …Something was wrong. Something was wrong. My instincts were screaming at me, even louder than they did at the eluvian. But I couldn't say anything, because I could only tell something was wrong, not what. And the others were dispersing. The mage was trotting one way. The old woman another. Nuada went to the shem-king, laughing and clapping him over the shoulder as he teased him about something involving a bookshelf. Teyrn Loghain headed for the tower, likely to notify his men. And Duncan walked away, still watching the forest in the distance.

I raced to catch up with him, grateful for the fact I _could_ run, and feel the familiar thump of the movement in my legs. I'd never take it for granted again. "Duncan?" I called. The older man paused and turned, waiting for me to slow to a stop before continuing to walk. "Um…" I debated telling him about the bad feeling, but decided against it. It was too vague. So… "Why did those two agree so easily to Nuada being out of danger? I'd meant it as a joke."

"King Cailan will be out on the frontlines, as is expected of Fereldan's king," Duncan answered slowly, focusing on me. I still thought that was absolutely idiotic and that Teyrn Loghain was right to be exasperated. But the Teyrn was also an idiot to refuse extra help. "Cailan, however, has no children. If something were to happen to the Theirin line, it is most likely the Couslands who will take over. As such, finding an excuse to keep both Nuada _and_ Elspeth out of the fight is politically sound, even if Nuada can no longer inherit anything." Because he was a Warden? "It would've been wise for Fergus too, but I'm sure they'll figure something out for him when he returns from scouting." He sounded uncomfortable, though. Had I missed something?

"And Alistair?"

"I'm afraid I can't say."

Ah, so he didn't know either. Well, maybe it was because Alistair fought with a sword and shield, like Nuada. They could coordinate well. "I see." I sighed heavily, rolling my shoulders. "Well, I guess now we just wait."

"Indeed. Take it while you can. A storm is approaching." Right on cue, thunder rumbled in the distance. "Well, I didn't mean that so literally." I almost laughed, but I couldn't force the mirth. Because of how my instincts still kept screaming, like the minor magic in me had caught sight of something I couldn't see. Couldn't hear. Couldn't touch.

Creators, guide us through this, please. We needed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So, a bit of a shortish chapter. Cailan sketching is something I thought of randomly, but it's hinted in game that he's very well read, due to his love of adventures and the like. It's also bluntly stated by Flemeth, later, that Loghain severely underestimates the darkspawn, and almost seems to see them as something like a human army (or, at least, that's how I interpreted her words). So, that's where that point of conflict comes from. Then you have Cailan's understandable, but still probably really stupid, decision to be on the frontlines, and for believing that people can so easily swallow past hatred. Basically, I think they're both at fault, and both being understandable idiots. Zaphikel is an OC mentioned in a previous chapter, as Cleon's first hunting teacher. I've mentioned it before, but Cleon has just enough magic to have very good instincts about situations. It showed up before with the eluvian and will be making some more appearances.
> 
> Next Chapter – The Calm with Layla (it takes place more or less simultaneously with this chapter)


	22. Chapter 21) The Calm

**Chapter 21) The Calm**

_Layla POV_

* * *

_Anders sighed next to me as our lessons turned to the weather. Because our magic often involved the natural world, every mage in the circle was required to have at least some basic knowledge in weather patterns. If we did not, we could accidentally trigger a natural disaster. "Boring…" he mumbled, doodling in his book. I peeked at it and stifled a giggle over the kitten he was drawing. It was something he'd dubbed 'ser-pounce-a-lot', and it looked adorable._

" _Anders, pay attention!" Wynne scolded from up front. He made a face and I had to stifle another giggle. Wynne, as usual, let him get away with it. "Now then, today we're going to learn about hurricanes. They are a very interesting weather type. Jowan, do you know why?"_

" _Uh…" Jowan began. He hadn't been paying attention either, and that was probably why Wynne had called on him. "Um…"_

" _Thank you, Jowan. Please keep your attention on the board." There were snickers, but I reached over to squeeze his hand reassuringly. "Now, hurricanes have what's know as the 'eye of the storm'. A point where, after the chaos, everything is eerily calm. But it's not over. There's still the rest of the storm, and, sometimes, it's even more devastating than the last."_

_That… sounded terrifying. I was glad I would never see something like that, ever._

* * *

"I wonder what they will talk about," I murmured as Aiden and I exited the tent not long after Nuada and Cleon left. "Ah, no, that did not come out right…"

"You're wondering about what strategies," Aiden helpfully interpreted. I smiled as I nodded. "Who's to say? I'm still amazed they'll listen to an elf." I, unfortunately, remained confused as to why that was something astounding. Yes, there were the problems in the Alienage, but… Agh, I could not understand why many treated elves so poorly! Things were so confusing outside of the Tower. "Ah, Mistress Layla, watch out!" He picked me up as a messenger flew past us, carrying a sword. "There we go."

"My apologies, Aiden." Everyone in the camp was moving so quickly. It was… chaotic. I did not like it. A cold and horrible feeling crept down my spine and pooled in my stomach. "I… ah… was not paying attention."

"I noticed." I glanced up at him and saw him as… well… normal as always. It was as if he did not notice anything wrong at all. Was I over-thinking things? "Mistress Layla?"

"I am woolgathering again, am I not?"

"I suppose." He smiled at me, before noticing something in the distance. "Ah, Lady Elspeth!" He rushed to her side, taking a few of the boxes she had been trying ot carry. "Please, allow me."

"Ah, you have my thanks," Elspeth murmured, readily letting go of her burden. She rolled her shoulders with a sigh. But she still looked as calm as ever. "Oh, Layla, is something wrong?"

"I… No, there is not," I mumbled awkwardly, glancing at the ground. I _had_ been staring, but mostly from surprise. Even though I had seen her a few times earlier, the armor she wore looked strange on her. I wondered, briefly, if she was an uncomfortable in it as I was in mine, but it did not seem so. "I am lost in my thoughts."

"Is there anything I can assist you with?"

"I…" Now I had to think of something. "I was wondering how we ended up in the tent." That was not a lie. It had been on my mind.

"Well, you were carried." …That was obvious. "I helped Uncle Duncan and Alistair, in a way."

"In a way, my lady?" Aiden repeated, shifting the boxes so that he could carry them better. I was startled at how easily he held them.

"I recruited two soldiers to help them," she explained. "They were a sister and a brother who Varel had asked to drop something off with the quartermaster. I did not get their names, sadly." Aw… I had hoped to thank them. "But that is a story for another time. Aiden, if you would not mind, those boxes need to head to the kennel at once."

"Of course, my lady."

"Thank you." She stepped away from us. "Well, I shall see you both later, I am sure. However, I must be going to further prepare for the battle."

"Are you going to be on the field, my lady?" He sounded startled. "I would have thought…"

She shook her head. "I will be with Uncle Loghain and his forces, helping to serve as his eyes." Wait, he was not going to be in the battle, then? "I have no doubt, though, that a last minute errand will bring me to the Warden fire before the fight."

"I see. Until then, my lady."

"Safe travel, Aiden."

Elspeth went one way. Aiden went the other. I stayed where I was for a moment, uncertain as to where to go. The bad feeling inside… it would not go away. "Elspeth?" I called, turning to her. I saw her pause and glance back at me. "Might I assist you?" She studied me for a moment, face like stone, before nodding. "My thanks. Now, at least, I would have something to do. I hoped.

* * *

Unfortunately, after a while of organizing supplies and weapons, Elspeth instructed me to go find the others and meet up with the Wardens. I truly wished to stay with her instead, as it distracted me of what was to come, but she insisted, so I had no choice. Lost in my nerves as I was, I did not notice the elderly man in silver armor until I almost ran into him.

"Careful there," he told me as I yelped and jumped back. "I imagine running into me would hurt a little." Surely, it would! "You're one of the new Wardens, aren't you?"

"Ah, yes, I am, sir," I mumbled, stepping back to curtsey at him. "My name is Layla Amell, a mage of the Circle."

"Ah, so you're Layla. Heard a little about you." He studied me a little. "Nervous?"

Ah… "Is… is it that obvious?"

"A little."

I sighed, and felt myself slump. "I had hoped I was hiding it well. I have felt out of sorts since arriving." It was as if I was out of place.

He was silent for a moment. "Now, listen to me. Some might claim you're too pretty for a Warden, or too fragile or some other nonsense like that, but don't let anyone tell you that you don't belong here. One of the first Wardens Maric and I met was a woman, and she was perhaps one of the finest warriors I'd ever seen. Still don't believe Duncan's story about how she died in the Deep Roads." I nodded, not really sure what to make of what he said. "And if they're scared just because you're a mage, that's their problem, not yours." He ruffled my hair, and I squeaked, smiling. That was… I rather liked that. It was kind of him to take time to reassure someone, especially a mage. "Well, Duncan has your orders. You're playing an important part, but the people who know you seem to have good faith in your ability to execute it."

"I hope nothing unexpected happens, then," I mumbled, mind racing. I had an important part? But I was… was I _truly_ up for it? "I shall do my best."

"All anyone could ask for." He patted my head once more and walked off, likely to go deal with something for the army.

In a lovely mood, I began to walk around the chaotic camp. I found myself strangely fascinated by the smells. There was a sort of tang that reminded me of the metal work some mages did in the workshops. There was also a strange sharp smell of… well, it smelled like fertilizer for the plants. There was also the smell… well, Aiden had described it as 'wet dog', something prevalent in Fereldan.

Still trying to identify all the scents, I rounded the corner to the mages' encampment and found a smile forcing itself onto my face as I noticed Wynne leaning against one of the few trees in the area, looking like she was about to laugh. I was able to talk to her earlier, before the Joining, but I would welcome the chance to talk to her again. At least, that was my first thought before I noticed she was talking with Nuada… and that he was _flirting_ with her! You… You have _got_ to be kidding me! Why was he flirting with Wynne?! Yes, she was very beautiful, but this was a serious situation!

Huffing, I turned on my heel and stomped off, glowering at the ground and annoyed both at what I had just seen and at myself. It was not until I bumped into something hard and cold that I even thought to look where I was going. "Ow…" I mumbled as I stumbled back, rubbing my nose. I found no injury, but it still hurt.

"Layla, are you all right?" I jerked my head up to see I had run into Commander Duncan. That was… beyond embarrassing. "Layla?"

"I believe my self-esteem is hurt more than anything," I mumbled after a moment. "My apologies, sir."

"Well, this is good timing." Was it? "I was wondering if you'd seen Nuada. I thought him with King Cailan, but when I went to check, he'd already left."

Yeah, He's a little too busy flirting," I muttered. I still was not certain why it aggravated me so much, but it definitely seemed like something he should not be doing!

"I wonder what favor he's asking. Must be private, if he's disguising it like that." He sounded distracted, like he was not really paying attention to what he was saying. "Or maybe he's trying to deny what's going on with Fergus, providing he's heard."

Huh? "Sir?"

He started and shook his head. "Sorry, Layla, thinking aloud." Pardon? "Fergus, however, is over two hours overdue from his patrol." I… I could not think of who that was. "…Fergus is his older brother, Layla. Fergus Cousland. The current Teyrn, now that Bryce is dead."

"…Ah…" Then why was he flirting? His brother… he could be…! "How… how bad are we…?"

"…We lost quite a few soldiers who went with Fergus, so the army isn't anywhere near full strength." Ah… "None of this is helped, of course, by Teyrn Loghain's distrust of us." He sighed heavily. "I have tried explaining to both him and King Cailan some details about Blights and the Wardens, but while King Cailan will eagerly listen, Loghain will not. His distrust of us even has him cutting into what time I can spend with King Cailan, and written messages simply would not _work_ in this scenario."

"Why is that?"

"It involves Warden secrets. I would gladly inform the two of them, but I cannot risk others finding it. Our position is too shaky. If they discover some things, like what we do in the Joining…" He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. He looked so _old_ right now. "The chance of them turning on us is too high to risk during a Blight." He shook his head. "I'm getting too old, rambling like this. Fiona would've hit me in the head by now, knowing her."

"Fiona?" I had never heard of her?

"An old friend, Layla, and one I miss dearly." He smiled softly. "Ah, she'd probably be bullying everyone here. No matter, though. She's still in Weisshaupt, leading investigations on the Architect." I… Weisshaupt, I had read, was the headquarters of the Wardens, located in the Southern Anderfels, but I had no idea who or what 'The Architect' was. "I'm rambling again. Forgive me, Layla, but I have to go and inform my fellows of the strategy. I will give you your briefing by the fire later."

"I… yes, Commander Duncan." What else was there to say? He was already so distracted.

"Thank you." He patted me on the shoulder and smiled apologetically, like he knew I was uncertain, but he _had_ to do this. "I'll make it up to you later, Layla."

"You promise, sir?"

"Yes." His smile was warm, and I managed to smile back. "Take care, Layla, and don't wander to far."

"Yes, sir." He walked off and I slowly meandered to another part of the camp, keeping one eye on the Warden campfire in the center. I wondered if Commander Duncan would organize a little welcoming party or something with the other Wardens after the battle today? We would do something like that in the Tower, when a new mage arrived. It was a way of welcoming them, and trying to make the place seem like home. That would be fun.

"Oh, I see you are up and about." I turned at the voice and came face to face with a… very strange woman. I had _never_ seen a woman so broad and muscled before, nor had I seen a human woman with facial tattoos like her. She had light brown eyes, the color of honey, with ink-black hair tied back in a simple ponytail. Her tattoos, pale red, were two pairs of simple lines down the side of her face, like waves or wings, and they contrasted sharply with the scar running down the left side of her face, right over her eye. Combined with her worn armor and the giant sword on her back, she was strange, and intimidating. "Ah, my apologies. I seem to have startled you," she continued, smiling. It was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the rest of her. "I am Minerva Hawke, miss. I am one of the people Lady Cousland recruited to help carry you four. Specifically, I am the one who carried you."

Ah! "M-my thanks," I yelped, curtseying in an attempt to hide my embarrassment. Being caught at staring was a horrid thing.

"You are quite welcome, Lady Warden. If I may say so, though, you are quite light for your size." I was? "Of course, most would take that as a compliment, I think. Though, it might have been the… other way around." I giggled. I could not help it. "My apologies, I am-"

"Sister, there you are." A boy walked up, scowling. Based on his features, I hazarded a guess he was related to Miss Hawke. "I've been looking all over for you," he grumbled. "Don't be like Diana and go wandering off."

"Di would cry if she heard that," Miss Hawke chided gently. Her soft smile turned stiff, and I wondered if the two had problems. "Warden Layla, this is my little brother, Carver. He carried the Dalish elf I didn't learn the name of."

I curtseyed to him, smiling in spite of his continued scowl. "It is an honor to meet you," I murmured. "I thank you for taking care of Cleon. He was most ill before the Joining."

"Oh, no problem," Mister Carver answered, looking a bit startled before settling on a grin. It was much nicer than the scowl. "And yeah, I'm the third oldest of the Hawke family. Bethany is younger, but Diana is older. Minerva is the oldest."

Th-that was so many…! "I have not heard of such a large family!"

"It was supposed to be three, but Carver and Bethany decided to be twins," Miss Hawke noted with gentle humor. It made Mister Carver scowl again, though. "So…"

"Well, Layla, when Uncle Duncan asked me to look for you, I wasn't expected you to be in the company of a two fierce warriors." I yelped at Nuada's voice and whirled to glare at him, trying to get my own thoughts straight. Commander Duncan had asked him to find me? How long had I been wandering? "Cleon is right," he noted with a grin, unperturbed. "We need to work on your glaring abilities." …I was sure they were fine. "I understand you two are the ones who helped my sister out?" It took me a second to realize he was addressing Miss Hawke and Mister Carver. "You have my deepest thanks for that."

"So, are you done flirting?" I grumbled as the other two hastily murmured that it was 'no problem.'

"What are you…? Oh, you mean my asking Lady Wynne to check in on Cailan after the fight?" …What? "Yeah, I'm done."

"No, you were flirting."

"Well, that's what it was _meant_ to look like. Some things need to be kept quiet for morale, so please don't raise your voice more." I _was_ keeping quiet. "Now then-"

"You two!" Almost everyone jumped at the commanding tone. I peered around Mister Carver to see the voice belonged to a woman even larger and more muscled than Miss Hawke. Her hair was a bright and beautiful orange color, and it held my attention far more than her face. "You're in General Varel's group, yeah?" she continued more quietly. Miss Hawke and Mister Carver nodded. "They're going to move soon."

"Ah, then it looks like we have to be off," Mistress Hawke murmured. She saluted us. "Luck be with you, Wardens."

"And you," Nuada replied. "I would love to talk once the battle is over."

"You are _not_ flirting with her too!" I protested. Mistress Hawke colored and Mister Carver scowled.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't flirt with _every_ beautiful woman, Layla." Mistress Hawke's flush darkened. "I would love to simply talk more with the two people who helped carry us."

"Sure, you would."

"Alack, alay, the beauteous Layla doesn't believe me. Oh, _woe_ is me!"

"Did he hit his head or something?" Mister Carver asked dryly. Mistress Hawke was hiding a smile behind her hand, blush cooling slowly.

"I honestly have no idea," I grumbled. "But… do you not have to hurry?"

"Oh, right." He glanced at his sister, who nodded. "Well, be seeing you."

"Farewell." I waved as they walked away, disappearing into the crowd. So, soldiers were moving. Did that mean…?

"If Varel's troops are moving, then we'd better get to the fire," Nuada murmured, crossing his arms and shifting his weight slightly. His words echoed my thoughts. "The battle is about to begin."

As the dread began to pool back in my stomach, I reached up to grab his arm. He started and jerked his head down to face me, but did not say anything. "I am scared," I whispered. Teyrn Loghain's words were a comfort, and Commander Duncan's promise made me hopeful, but with the battle right here… I felt like throwing up or just collapsing.

"…That's okay. Most people are." He gently rested a hand on mine. "I'll keep you and Alistair safe. We're grouped together."

We were? "…Do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

Strangely, that helped relieve the fear a little bit. "My thanks."

"It's certainly no trouble to ease a pretty girl's worries." I yelped and whacked him in the arm, flustered beyond belief. He laughed and I grumbled under my breath about idiotic men.

It was only much later, when we arrived at the Warden campfire where the others were waiting, that I realized I had been so busy being embarrassed that I could not even think about being afraid. Had that been his intention?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, we're getting close to the big moment! In here, though, we see some cameos~ And, what's this? Four Hawke children? …Yeah, Saga has _two_ Hawkes serving as main characters. You can take a guess at the class Minerva is. Fiona, for those who are curious, is a character who shows up in both The Calling and Asunder, and The Calling ends with her having to lead a party to hunt for the Architect. I have no clue how long that lasted, so I'm assuming it's still going on, despite it being twenty years.
> 
> I also use this chapter to explain just why I think Duncan didn't tell Loghain and/or Cailan important details about the Blight. It seemed strange to me, but then I remembered Loghain's distrust and wondered if he'd have even listened, being convinced they're just trying to seize power like they did in the past. And before people ask, yes, Loghain says something like that to female Wardens. It seemed right for him to notice the nervous young girl on the field and try to reassure her.
> 
> Next Chapter – The Briefing with Aiden. (So, I might be delaying the inevitable heartbreak and terror for my poor Wardens, and giving some short chapters. Sorry?)


	23. Chapter 22) Goodbyes

**Chapter 22) Goodbyes**

_Aiden POV_

* * *

" _Andraste's ass, I still remember back then!" I barely paid attention as I passed by the men drinking. Normally, someone would complain, but we all recognized them. They were some of the veterans of the rebellion, and often drank to escape their nightmares. "Sitting around a campfire, with mud and twigs as the map! Not to mention the cold and the pain!" One guzzled his ale and managed to drop his mug. His hands shook too much. "Ah…"_

" _Here." I picked it up and wiped off the mud before handing it back to him. "Maybe you should head inside," I suggested kindly. "Surely it'll be better?"_

" _Maybe." He waved his hand around my head. I moved towards it when I realized he was trying to figure out which image was actually me. "You a good boy, Aiden. Be careful. Good boys… they always the ones to die."_

" _I will." It was easy to agree when you knew you'd never leave the Alienage, after all._

* * *

As I listened to Master Duncan explain the strategy at the Warden campfire, using pictures drawn in the dirt to help elaborate, I couldn't help but remember the veterans back home. I _never_ thought I'd see the same things as them, but it seemed someone had a sense of irony.

"So, basically, Aiden and I are on the front lines while Alistair, Nuada, and Layla are in the tower," Cleon summarized after Master Duncan gave a lengthy briefing over the plan of action. He smiled wryly. "Only now do I notice how we got split by race. Whoops." I was certain that if he hadn't been part of the planning, he'd be snarking about it. As it was, he simply looked amused.

Warden Alistair, to my surprise, frowned at the orders. "I expected to be in the battle, Duncan," he murmured. "I've six months of training with the Wardens, and more as a Templar." Certainly more than me. "Why…?"

"It was the King's orders, Alistair," Master Duncan answered. Instead of placating Warden Alistair, though, it seemed to darken his mood. "And if the beacon isn't lit, Teyrn Loghain's men will not charge."

"So, three Grey Wardens have to head up and hold the torch."

"Alistair." Alistair's jaw clenched, but he made no more attempts to reply. "It's important."

"Yeah. I get it. Signal is the usual?"

"There will be a normal signal in addition to Senior Enchanter Wynne contacting Layla." Mistress Layla smiled softly and nodded to confirm. "She's already agreed to it. With luck, this plan will work out with minimal complications. If not, I trust you all, but no heroics."

"Just not to the point where you'd argue with the King," Alistair grumbled. At Master Duncan's frown, though, he plastered a smile and shrugged. "I get it, Duncan. I get it. However, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I am drawing the line, darkspawn or no." The… the Remigold? That was a dance that involved quite a bit of kicking and staring… uh…

"I'd pay to see that!" Lord Nuada laughed, the first words out of his mouth since he and Mistress Layla joined us at the fire. "Maybe I'll join you!"

"Well, they'd have to be some pretty dresses."

"Shem'len have some strange ideas," Cleon muttered, just staring at the two jokers debating what sort of dress they'd wear. " _Very_ strange."

"I'll have you know, Cleon, that I look _quite_ fetching in a dress," Lord Nuada declared haughtily. "There are pictures somewhere in the castle that prove it, too!"

"Besides, I nearly went into a career where I'd basically have to walk around in a dress all day," Warden Alistair added with a broad grin. "I _had_ to be able to pull that off."

"That is quite difficult to do," Mistress Layla commented solemnly. Her eyes, however, sparkled with humor. "I have seen many, many templars and mages who could not do so."

"Yeah, there were some guys kicked out of the classes because their legs weren't shapely enough!"

"You have got to be joking," Cleon growled, glowering at them. "That makes no sense, even for shem'len!"

"Weeeeeeeell…~"

Smiling slightly, I noticed Master Duncan shake his head with an exasperated sigh. He made no move, however, to stop their antics, instead watching over them like an indulgent father. Perhaps… "Master Duncan?" I began slowly. I clenched my fists to keep them from shaking. I shouldn't do this. Question an order. A plan set up by human lords. But… "You mentioned King Cailan fighting alongside the Wardens, yes? Is… is that wise?"

"No." Master Duncan's answer was blunt, but not rebuking. "I've tried to dissuade him numerous times. But he insists on it. We Wardens are leading the charge, and he will lead his soldiers, as he believes is expected." That was…

"Oh, relax, Aiden!" Lord Nuada teased, clapping me on the shoulder. I guessed their jokes about the Remigold and dresses were over. "All will go well, and we'll laugh at the injuries we all got. You'll see." One of these days, I would learn if he truly believed the optimistic things he said. It was hard to tell with that smile.

"Injuries are _not_ something to laugh about!" Mistress Layla scolded, pouting up at Lord Nuada. "That is a horrid thing to say!"

"Oh, I can think of an incident that led to a _very_ funny set of injuries."

"Nuada, what are you talking about?" I looked over my shoulder to see Lady Elspeth walk up. She looked as calm as her brother was cheerful. "You really shouldn't laugh at a time like this," she continued, frowning slightly.

"Well, I can't help but laugh at this memory!" Lord Nuada teased, grinning broadly. "Do you remember the hunting accident that resulted in four holes from one arrow?"

"The…!" To my surprise, Lady Elspeth immediately colored and looked away. " _Nuada!_ You are not allowed to tell anyone of that!"

"Come on! It was _hilarious_!" She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him a short distance away, blush slowly cooling.

"How do you get four holes with one arrow?" I asked rhetorically, trying to figure it out. "That doesn't really make sense." It would, logically, be two entrance and two exit holes, but why would such a thing be amusing? Made no sense.

A snicker caught my attention and I glanced to see Cleon trying desperately to muffle some snickers. At my stare, he tried to explain, "Oh, I think I know. She must've gotten him…!" But Cleon dissolved into laughter too loud to let him continue. Wha…?

"I do not understand it either?" Mistress Layla mumbled with a frown. "No injury is amusing. Cleon, do stop laughing!" Shaking my head, I took a couple of steps closer to the nobles, only to freeze when I realized there was no laughter there. In fact, it looked almost like they were _arguing_ over something. I moved a little closer, wondering what was going on, but then I saw what Lady Elspeth was trying to give Lord Nuada. The Cousland Sword and Shield.

" _Those_ are Fergus's!" Lord Nuada hissed. I only barely heard him from where I was. I wondered what sort of face he wore now. I doubted even he would smile when yelling, but maybe he was. He kept himself angled away from the group, too much for me to tell. "They are _not_ mine!"

"Fergus isn't here," Lady Elspeth retorted bluntly. The embarrassment from earlier was gone, replaced by hard stone and harder eyes. "I can't use them, and they should be in a Cousland's hands."

"You can hold them until the battle is over! Fergus might need a change when he returns."

"Nuada…!" Wait, not hard. Hard eyes didn't glisten. No, she was near tears. "Nuada, I… please?" She looked down at the ground. "Please, we've lost so much already. Uncle Duncan, Cailan, Uncle Loghain, Anora, and you are all that's left of our old lives now." She made no mention of potential survivors. I wondered if she'd written them off. Why? Why not hope a little? "Please, take them. They'll keep your safe until we can meet again."

There was a long moment of silence before Lord Nuada sighed and leaned forward, resting his forehead against his younger sister's. He whispered something, in a language I didn't understand. But she did, and she nodded before handing him the sword and shield. This time, he took them. "You're such a worrier," he teased lightly. She merely smiled slightly, so he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I won't leave you alone until the Calling. That's a promise."

"I promise to not die before you, then." I stepped back then, suddenly _very aware_ of how much I was eavesdropping. Unfortunately, though, I stepped on a twig and it snapped. Both nobles whirled at the noise and I endeavored to look as unassuming and inattentive as possible. Watching the trees and the darkening skies. Rain?

"Aiden." I brought my gaze down at Lord Nuada's gentle call. I avoided looking him in the eye, despite the calm smile. "Do you mind not telling the others about that?" he asked me. I nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, milord," I mumbled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"No, it's fine. Both of us… were about to breakdown anyway. We can't afford that." I glanced at his face, and saw his grin widen. "Thank you, Aiden."

"Yes, milord."

"Hey, Alistair!" Lord Nuada called, moving past me. I glanced back and saw Lady Elspeth studying the sky. I wondered if I should go check on her, but decided against it. Instead, I followed Lord Nuada back to the group. "Here!" He tossed the sword and shield he'd been holding over to Alistair, who caught it barely. "See how you like them."

"What about you?" Alistair asked as he carefully checked the new weapons over. He whistled softly at them. "Wow… better than lots of stuff I've seen in the market."

"They're from Uncle Loghain's private stores, so they'd _better_ be good." Lord Nuada shrugged and picked up the Cousland Sword and the Shield of Highever. "I'll be making do with these."

"Making do?" Cleon repeated dryly, bending down to examine them. "I don't know my metals well, but these look like better than 'making do'."

"They're heavier than my normal." Despite the smile, I thought that might've been a lie. "But I've got light duty, so I'll be fine."

"Everyone." Everything froze as Master Duncan reminded us that he was still there. "I must go to the others now," he told us. A small sound at my right made me turn. Lady Elspeth had come up beside me. "Say your goodbyes and head to your positions."

"Duncan!" Warden Alistair called as Master Duncan turned away. "Maker watch over you."

"Maker watch over us all." He glanced over his shoulder to smile at us before walking away, leaving us alone for… for goodbyes.

"Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and wicked, and do not falter," Layla whispered, clasping her hands together. Of course, she'd pray. "Maker, watch over us as we defend our lands from this scourge. Our enemies are abundant. Many are those who rise up against us. But our faith sustains us; we shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against us. We shall embrace the light. We shall weather the storm. We shall endure. Blessed be Your name, and may You see us through this trial. So mote it be."

As she finished, though, Cleon whispered, "Mythal, all mothers, Protector of all, watch over us, for the path we tread is perilous. Save us from the darkness, as you did before, and we will sing your name to the heavens." I wouldn't have thought him to be the praying sort. Were all Dalish like that?

"Are you not going to say a prayer?" Lady Elspeth asked me softly as Cleon finished. Her face was stone again, with no traces of the tears from earlier.

I hesitated before shaking my head. "No, milady," I whispered. "I'm not sure if he'll hear me."

"You are like Nuada and me, then."

"I suppose so, milady."

"I thought so."

"Well, with two divine entities watching out for us, I dare say we'll get out of this in one piece!" Lord Nuada laughed. He clasp Cleon and mine's shoulders, and gripped them tightly. "So, we shall see you after the battle?"

"Yes, milord," I murmured. I tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace, so I dropped the action. "Until then."

"And you better not be jinxing us, noble," Cleon grumbled. Despite that, though, he grasped Lord Nuada's opposing shoulder. "Watch out for Layla and Alistair. You see a lot more than you pretend to." Lord Nuada's smile softened a bit as he nodded.

Layla bounded up to give me a hug, one that I returned. "Do try to not get badly injured?" she requested softly, looking up at me. She looked close to tears. "It is quite difficult to stitch wounds together."

"I will do my best," I reassured. She smiled shakily at my words. "You do as well."

"I will be fine. I have two protectors!" She sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than me. "…Be careful."

"And you." She nodded, rubbed at her eyes, and went to hug Cleon. Likely whisper the same warnings to him. I looked up to Warden Alistair. I wondered how to say goodbye to him, but he smiled and saluted from where he was. I hesitantly copied his movements and he grinned. Yeah, that was probably a good way to say goodbye, for now.

"I will walk part of the way with you and Cleon, Aiden," Lady Elspeth told me. I glanced over and saw a bow and quiver hooked onto her back. Where had she stored them? "Are we ready?"

I looked over at the others, all hesitating at really letting go of each other. Regardless of the words, we all knew this would be rough. Still… "Yeah," I replied. My voice stayed steady, despite the fact that I wanted to shake. Battle, again? Red all over the place… "Cleon."

"On it." Cleon ruffled Mistress Layla's hair, saluted Lord Nuada, and Warden Alistair, and came to my side. "Ready to go," he declared with a grin. Right, he _had_ experience fighting. "Let's do it."

To battle we go, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Yes, short chapter, and just basically one long scene at that. Layla's prayer was used previously in chapter 2, while Cleon's is derived from Merrill's prayer in her Act 3 quest. I read somewhere that Remigold was mentioned in the toolkit as being the can-can. While I don't know how 'canon' that information is, the image was too hilarious to pass up!
> 
> Next Chapter – The Tower of Ishal with Nuada.


	24. Chapter 23) The Unexpected

**Chapter 23) The Unexpected**

_Nuada POV_

* * *

" _Nuada, what are you doing?" I looked up to see Uncle Loghain scowling at me. He was always scowling, of course. I wasn't sure if he liked anyone besides Uncle Maric and Anora, really. With Uncle Maric preparing for a trip to Antiva, he seemed even grouchier than normal. "That's the model for Cailan's history lesson," he grumbled._

" _Is it?" I replied, widening my eyes in false innocence and putting on my most surprised look. While Orlais had turned Elspeth's masks into stones, it had turned mine into expressive looks of idiocy and charm. "It was just out here in the open."_

" _Because Cailan is skipping. Again. No doubt somewhere with your brother." Well, of course Fergus was. There was no way he'd let his best friend get into mischief without him. "…Why did you move them there?"_

" _Huh?"_

" _The pieces. You rearranged them." I almost asked why he thought that, but he continued with, "this dictates a battle I had to fight. I remember it clearly." Well, this was awkward._

" _It looked better," I answered sourly. I wanted to get away from here and back to Elspeth. Surely, she was done with her information hunting._

" _Why?"_

_Something about the look in his eyes really made me want to stop playing stupid. "Using the archers as a bait force leads them straight to a fresh cavalry that can demolish them."_

" _There's bad footing in the area."_

" _Which is why the only cavalry there are those with ponies. The ones with stallions and geldings are on the sides, ready to come in through the back to block escape." Uncle Loghain studied me and I shrugged. "It's not perfect. I was bored, so I set up something quick."_

"… _What are you doing right now?"_

_Huh? "Waiting for Elspeth?"_

" _Sit here." I blinked slowly as he gestured to the chair next to the table. "We're going to have a lesson in strategy and tactics."_

" _There's a difference?"_

" _Tactics are on the field decisions, strategies are long-term." For the first time, though, I saw him smile. "You've don't have a bad head for it. Let's see if we can turn it into a talent, Nuada."_

" _Yes, sir?" Well, Elspeth wouldn't mind waiting a bit. I hoped._

* * *

Fergus was fine. Fergus was fine. _Fergus was fine_. If I thought it enough, it had to come true, right? …Of course not, and it would be better to just forget until another time, but I couldn't seem to manage it. No matter what I did, what trick I pulled, it wouldn't leave my head and fester in whatever hole I threw memories and thoughts like that in. I was standing on the bridge with Alistair and Layla, watching the troops form up below, and all I could think about was how Cailan was getting into trouble again, and _Fergus wasn't here to pull him out_. Maker, damn it! How was I supposed to keep my head in a situation like this if I couldn't even control my thoughts?

Lightning cracked over our heads and the rumbling thunder shook the trees. Layla squeaked at the noises, ducking behind Alistair as she glanced up to the dark sky. "I suppose it is fitting for there to be rain," she mumbled awkwardly. "It is… dramatic."

"Rain is actually a bad thing," I noted absently. I stared at the gathering soldiers below, all of my attention going to Cailan despite my efforts. Uncle Duncan, Cleon, and Aidan could take care of themselves, I knew. But Cailan could get reckless when it came to proving himself. And there was no Fergus… "Rain reduces visibility, generates mud that makes it harder to move, and the stress of dealing with it leads to more mistakes. The heavy winds that also accompany them will make it harder for archers to cover properly."

"It'll be better for it to just be thunder and lightning, but no rain," Alistair agreed, watching the soldiers just as I was. I wondered who he was looking for below. I'd guess Uncle Duncan or the other Wardens. "But I don't think we're going to be so lucky."

"Will not those disadvantages affect the darkspawn in equal measure?" Layla asked softly. Mabari barks filtered up. They'd sensed something. "They do live underground."

"They are also incapable of free thought and speech," I reminded her. Chantry sisters were walking the lines, swinging their lanterns as they chanted more prayers. I wondered if there was anyone really listening. "They don't have a concept of morale."

"Ah…" Layla suddenly shivered and jerked her head to the distant trees. "What is that?" She pointed and I saw the fog rolling out of the woods. I wasn't sure how to answer her.

But Alistair did. "They're here," he whispered. I glanced at him and saw him pale. "And there are a lot more of them than expected."

"Of course, there are," I sighed. A strange whispering sound danced through my head as shadows stepped out from the fog. Was this the darkspawn sense Wardens were famous for? "Nothing ever goes to plan around here." Growls and clanging metal soon made their way on the wind, telling us that the darkspawn weren't surprised, or cowered, by the army ahead. "There's no turning back, though."

"I hate that phrase," Layla whispered. I saw some soldiers below step back in fear, but their comrades helped them firm their resolve. Would it be enough? "What's that darkspawn there?" She pointed to a darkspawn covered head to toe in bone-armor. "It seems different from the others."

"I think…" Alistair began, frowning as he studied the enemy. "I think that might be a general. If so… if so, then the Archdemon isn't playing around. Generals aren't normally fielded this early in a Blight."

"Regardless…" I whispered as that armored darkspawn swung down his sword. The darkspawn took that as their cue to charge. "It's starting." I turned to the two of them. "Don't we need to get to that Tower?"

"Yeah." Alistair nodded and jumped down from his perch. "Follow me!" He took off, and I was close behind. Layla trailed a bit, glancing frequently at the battle raging.

It was good that she did, because her sudden gasp helped warn us of the danger. "Well, it seems they've siege weapons," I yelled to Alistair as I saw the flaming stones flying towards us. They crashed into the side of the bridge, shaking it. "At least the rain will help with this!"

"Yay, we won't die _burning_ and crushed!" I liked Alistair. He had a sense of humor. "Layla!" I turned and saw a soldier push her out of the way of an oncoming boulder. She crashed into me, but I held her steady. The soldier who saved her, though, hadn't been so lucky. His blood splattered over the bridge, and slowly seeped out from the bottom of the stone. There wouldn't even be a body to recover, just pulp. "You both-?!"

"We're just fine." I shoved Layla ahead of me, nudging her so she kept moving forward. She kept trying to look back. "Layla, now isn't the time."

"But that soldier…!" she protested. She kept fighting me, but I kept her going towards Alistair. He was waiting for us at the end of the bridge. "Is he all right?"

"He's just fine," I lied smoothly. It was easy in a situation like this. "But we won't be if we don't keep moving."

"If you say so." I wondered if she believed me, but at least she stopped fighting me as we caught up with Alistair on the other end of the bridge. "Now, how do we enter the-"

"Wardens?!" A soldier raced for us, eyes wide in his pale face. A small group of his fellows followed, limping and clutching bleeding wounds. "The tower… the tower's been taken!" he screamed. What? "They came up through the lower chambers! They're everywhere! Most of our people are dead!" I stepped around him to see he wasn't exaggerating. The entire area was filled with fighting. This was no small group of darkspawn, separated from the main on accident. They'd sent at least ten squads worth to strike from behind.

Maker, you have got to be kidding me. "Barricade the bridge!" I ordered to the soldiers. They just stared. "Are you all mad? Barricade the bridge or they're getting into the camp and getting behind our soldiers! Move!" I turned back and saw Alistair and Layla just standing there, staring. "That goes for you two, too!" Maybe if I gave them actual orders…? Ugh, I hated giving orders. "Layla, set up a camp for the injured. Alistair, go… go be the Warden and kill the blighters! I'll be with you in just a second!" Alistair moved immediately; everyone else stayed exactly where they did. "Go!" _Finally_ , everyone started moving. The soldiers immediately picked up what boxed and crates there were to start up the barricade. Layla went to the stone walls nearby and started drawing glyphs.

"How did you know what to do?" she asked as I walked to her. I figured she'd need the most help, if anyone needed it. She glanced hesitantly at some of the barrels nearby; I moved them out of her way, creating walls to make things easier on her. "Everything looks so… chaotic. It is worse than an experiment going wrong at the Tower, and you did it without pausing."

"I would be scolded severely for hesitating when lives are on the line," I explained as I placed the last barrel in place. Of course, most of those who'd scold me were… not here. "This also isn't the first life and death situation I've been in, and I've been drilled for years on what to do in a situation like this."

"Huh?"

"Whoever told you that nobles had easy lives was sorely mistaken. I had ten assassination attempts by the time I was five." Of course, that had been in Antiva, and many weren't exactly pleased with my family negotiating trade deals. "I can keep my head because of it."

"Is this why you and Elspeth acted as you did when Highever burned?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." I smiled and she scowled. "I'm going to go support Alistair. I'll leave the defense here to you."

"…Be careful, both of you." She sighed. "I don't know how you can dodge anything in that armor."

"Well, actually, armor is purposely designed to be easy to move around in. I could do summersaults in this." She stared in disbelief. "I'd demonstrate, but now isn't the time."

"Would… would you show me later then?" She smiled hesitantly, and I didn't have the heart to point out that we were likely not going to get a 'later'. "Please?"

"Yeah, I'll do that." Oh, how many promises was I going to collect today? "Good luck, Layla."

"And you, Nuada."

"I'll be fine!" I grinned at her; she rolled her eyes, but smiled back. "I will see you soon." With that, I made sure to palm my sword and shield and charged into the fray. Most soldiers were doing their best, but they'd been wounded in the initial assault, making them weak against the darkspawn that crawled over the courtyard here. I ignored most of the groups, though, and made my way to Alistair. _He_ had thrown himself into the thickest part, drawing most of the darkspawn to him to keep them from slaughtering the weakened soldiers. I might as well give him a hand, yeah?

"There aren't supposed to be any darkspawn here," Alistair growled as his back hit mine. I didn't ask how he knew it was me. My short charge through had already left me tired and bloody. I'd be working on muscle memory from here on out. Thankfully, Uncle Loghain and Father had drilled me so much over the years. "This area is supposed to be clear!"

"I know!" I replied with a laugh. If I appeared confident, others would either laugh and roll their eyes or take courage from it. "It's so rude of them for arriving without a messenger!"

"Or an invitation!" Well, it was nice to see someone else who hid behind humor. "I'll take the left?"

I almost agreed until I realized something suddenly. Alistair's armor was far poorer than mine, iron to my white steel, and the left was filled with stronger enemies. I had no doubts about his skill, since he was a Warden, but his armor just wouldn't hold up as long as mine. "No, I'll take the left." I heard him make a quizzical noise, so I made up an excuse. "I just hate the left side of things more than anything."

"Why? Is it sinister or something?"

"Well, it depends on the language!" I flashed a grin over my shoulder. "I'll see you in a bit!" Without letting him protest, I swung into the left side of the darkspawn group. I shattered the sword of the first one I struck, grimacing as the iron shards clipped my face and neck. I would, of course, forget to grab a damn helmet before heading out for a fight. But I shrugged off the minor bits of pain as I crashed my shield into the next one, before overpowering a third. Again and again, I went through the motions I'd learned since a child, the techniques Uncle Loghain taught me when he saw what style I favored.

It wasn't until the darkspawn finally started thinning that I realized Layla was besieged. She kept the darkspawn back with carefully casted glyphs that paralyzed and repulsed, but there was one darkspawn that seemed to just shrug it off no matter what she did. Thinking quickly, I slipped my shield off and slung it at the darkspawn. I grinned when it caught it straight in the neck, taking off half its head. Of course, I then had to duck under a greatsword aiming for my head. I slammed my sword into its gut, only to hit a little too hard and have it get stuck. I let it go to avoid losing my balance and found myself in the middle of a small group of darkspawn weaponless. Well, this will be interesting.

"Why did you throw away your weapon?!" Alistair yelled from across the field. I ignored him for the darkspawn racing for me. "Damn it, hold-!"

I dodged the darkspawn's mace, grabbed it by the neck, and flipped it over my head, driving its skull into the stone ground to crack it. I rolled out of the way of another darkspawn's blade, snapped a kick right above its knees to make it topple forward, and whirled to get more momentum and slam my heal into its head, sending it into the burning torches. I ducked as two more tried to swing at me, only for them to strike each other dead and fall. When they were taken care of, I glanced back to a gaping Alistair. "What?" I asked with a grin. I was impressed by the number of bodies surrounding him. He'd held himself well. "If you know where to hit, bodies are fragile. That accounts for everyone, even darkspawn."

"I noticed." He was still staring. "So, where did you learn stuff like _that_?"

"Well, actually, I think those tricks came from a brothel." Antiva was filled with marvelous people who had no qualms teaching children how to kill to defend themselves. "I know a few other tricks, though."

"Right, I want to learn. Templars were never taught anything like that." I would be _very surprised_ if anyone associated with the Chantry did. They at least pretended to be 'clean' and 'holy'. "Well, besides basics."

"If we get out of this, I'll show you all the tricks you want." Ignoring the fact that I'd made yet another promise, I surveyed the area, glad to note there were no more darkspawn here, for now. I glanced up to see the barricades set up on the bridge, just as I'd ordered. Layla's base was completely intact now, if full of groaning and bleeding soldiers. I ignored the corpses, darkspawn and human alike, littering the area. There was no time to count, sadly. "Well, this is quite the mess."

"Let's get the wounded over to Layla," Alistair suggested. I didn't answer, just turned my attention to the tower. "Nuada?"

"Yeah," I agreed. I didn't move, though. "That seems like a good idea."

"Oh… kay… then…?" I heard him shuffle awkwardly. "Well, I'm going to do that then." He wandered off, but I kept studying the tower. You had to know your battlefield in order to fight, after all. That was what Uncle Loghain had taught me.

I just had to hope it would be enough to get us to the top.

* * *

After we helped the soldiers, we made our way into the Tower as quietly as possible. I closed and locked the door behind us. I didn't want more getting out there. They had enough trouble on their hands. "We need to be stealthy," I whispered, grimacing at the mere thought as I double check that, yes, I _did_ retrieve my family sword and shield from the corpses. Cleon or Elspeth should be here, not me. I was horrible at moving quietly.

"That's so going to be easier said than done," Alistair sighed, smiling wryly. He gestured at his armor before pointing to mine. "These do make some noise. Layla's got the best chance, since she's only wearing a leather chest piece, for some reason."

"She didn't have the strength for a full body one."

"I can hear you two," Layla grumbled from up ahead. She'd decided to peek into the main hall and immediately ducked back, pressing against the wall. "There are a bunch of them. What do we do?"

"Well, if we take into account the age of the building…" I began slowly, gently knocking on the stone walls. I hunted for anything that sounded off, grinning when I found something. "Here, help me with this."

"Secret passage?" Alistair asked as he came up beside me. "Convenient."

"They're supposed to be. This place is a fortress, and fortresses have to have multiple ways in and out in case of a siege." Nodding, I started pressing against the wall. "Of course, they don't exactly have instruction manuals. Push that other side and see if you get some movement, will you?" Alistair nodded and did as I asked. We got just a bit of movement.

"Let me guess. Age also means rust."

"Is it _that_ surprising?"

"Nope."

"I can fix that," Layla offered. I glanced back at her, and saw her smile slightly. "Please, tell me where."

"I'd guess somewhere where I am, based on where Alistair is," I answered after a moment. I ran my fingertips over the stone and found a line where it _seemed_ like the edge of a door would be. "Here."

"Very well." She bounded up and whispered something to herself. Faint green light blossomed in her hands and she blew into it to scatter the light into the seams of the door. When Alistair pressed again, it opened without a problem. "It worked."

"What spell was that?" Alistair asked as he glanced inside. As expected, it was dark and dusty, but that just meant the darkspawn hadn't found it yet.

"We call it 'grease'," Layla explained with a light giggle. "We use it in the Tower to help maintain the doors and sensitive machines used in experiments."

"Interesting name."

"It's… highly flammable." Well, that was useful if we ever needed it. "Might we go in?" Layla conjured up a little wisp that swirled around her. It cast off just enough light to be eerie, but I didn't fancy walking into the dark without a light. I had enough of _that_ in Nevarra. I'd run into _far_ too many skeletons there.

"All right. Stay in the middle." Alistair glanced at me and I shrugged before trudging in first. Layla tiptoed in after me, while Alistair brought up the rear, closing the door behind us.

It fell into place with a dull thud and I heard two muffled squeaks behind me. "Everyone all right?" I asked as I kept walking. I ran my hands over the walls, feeling for anything that felt like a latch.

"It's dark and cramped," Layla whispered. She coughed a little at the dust. "I feel like I'm in solitary confinement at the Tower. If it was anything like this, I have no idea how Anders remained sane."

"It reminds me of the dungeons in Redcliffe," Alistair added. He sounded only a little better than Layla. "I got stuck there for a whole day, once." So, Alistair was from Redcliffe? Had he worked in the Castle before being sent off to the Chantry? I wanted to ask, but now wasn't the time. "Ah, good times."

"That does not sound appealing at all."

"Sarcasm."

"…Oh." She coughed again, but it sounded like it was from embarrassment. "What about you, Nuada?"

"Hmm?" It was all I could think to reply as I focused on getting us out. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think of this place?" Layla repeated.

"It's a tunnel."

"That's it?"

"There are passages like this in Highever." I heard her breath hitch. "What is it?"

"It is… it is nothing." There was a pause. "I merely thought of the one we used to escape-"

My fingers found metal, and I welcomed the distraction. "I found something." I heard a frustrated noise behind me, but ignored it. "Let's see…" It took a couple of tries, but I managed to figure out the trick and the door opened with a muffled groan. I poked my head out and looked around before grinning back at the two. Layla looked annoyed, while Alistair looked relieved. "No darkspawn either for now. Let's go."

Of course, not three steps in, we figured out why this area was so clear. "Well, I think we figured out how they got up from the lower tunnels," Alistair noted as we edged around the gigantic hole in the floor. I made myself not think of how many people died when it opened up. "How did they blow this up, though?"

"I would guess magic," Layla answered shakily. She pointed to the scorch marks on the side. "That is a typical sign of fire magic."

"They probably enhanced it with some alchemical concoction," I agreed, carefully making my way closer. The stone creaked under my feet, but held firm. That was nice. I didn't fancy being like the crates and cages that had been destroyed. "Oh, look at this." I reached for a metal glint in the floor and tugged to prove it solid. "They have ropes."

"They're lined up all around," Alistair pointed out as he made his way next to me. "How should we take care of them?" Well, that was the question. We obviously had to, just to buy more time, but we couldn't really walk around.

Remembering the Wilds, though, I turned to Layla, who hung back like a sane person. "Can you snap the ropes?" I asked her. She blinked slowly at me, so I repeated myself. "Can you snap the ropes?"

"I… believe so," she whispered. She crept towards us, hands out for balance as if she expected the floor to cave in. Perhaps she did. "I can freeze them and the weight should take care of the rest." To my surprise, she grabbed my arms and leaned out further, face paling. "There are… there are a lot of them down there."

Alistair took my shoulder for balance and moved closer to the edge. I was so _pleased_ to be the one who had to catch people. "Some are climbing the ropes," he hissed, jumping back. Oh, that wasn't good. "Layla…!"

"On it!" Hooking her arm around mine to keep steady, she conjured blue-white light between her hands. I winced as the light radiated cold, and started hunting through my packs. Elspeth had packed them for me, and, knowing her, there was probably… ha! I found… Elspeth, I highly doubted even I would need ten bombs.

Nevertheless, as Layla froze the ropes and made them shatter, I tossed two bombs down the hole and jerked her and Alistair back in time to duck from the minor explosion. "You were carrying that?" Alistair asked, giving me a dirty look. "That could've been useful earlier!"

"I just thought to look for them," I defended with a shrug. "They're not my preferred method of combat."

"Then who's is it?"

"Elspeth's."

"We have more coming!" Layla yelped, pointing down the hall. I turned to see a small group of darkspawn charging for us.

"Here!" Alistair yelled as he opened up a door. Layla and I quickly followed him inside the room, and he managed to shut it just in time to block the arrows flying after us. I glanced around and noticed two things. One, this was the way up. Two, there were a _lot_ of leftover weapons. "Okay, what should we do?"

"We block the door," I answered, snatching a spear up and jamming it across the door. I tried to keep it at as firm an angle as possible.

"Is that necessary?" Layla demanded as I braced the door with another nearby spear. "That will make it harder to get back down!"

"We can worry about _that_ later," Alistair answered for me. He passed me a giant war axe, which I used to reinforce the spears. "Our job just got a _lot_ harder, Layla, and this might be the only way to keep them from coming up behind us."

"Who said I'm doing anything more than buying time?" I growled. I pushed against the door to test its strength and grimaced. "Even with bracing, this isn't going to last long. It's too old, and if they come with magic…" I turned to them. Layla was paler than fresh fallen snow; Alistair was simply grim. I wondered if I should be cocky, but worry crept too deep for me to fake the mask. Instead, I chose to be blunt. "If things don't go lucky, we're going to die." A series of dull, echoing shrieks filtered into the room, emphasizing my point. "Run. Now."

Well, I'd never been more terrified I'd break a promise to Elspeth in my life.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Right, some changes here. _Namely_ , having a bunch of soldiers getting out at the beginning, setting up a barricade for the bridge, and the giant hole in the floor. This appears in Return to Ostagar, but _isn't_ shown in the main game (as far as I could see during my playthrough. It certainly wasn't acknowledged). However, since it's implied this is how they managed to get into the Tower in the first place, I felt it important to show.
> 
> Yes, Grease is an actual spell from the creation tree. It's a trap and can be used for the Grease Fire combination.
> 
> Next Chapter – On the field with Cleon


	25. The Battle

**Chapter 24) The Battle**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_There was blood everywhere. All over my armor, my knives, and my hands. Some was probably on my face and in my hair at this point. But despite the mess on me, the wolf in front of me was strangely pristine. Its wound dribbled crimson into its soft fur. Its flank no longer moved with labored breaths. Its fangs were no longer fiercely bared. The bright eyes had dulled to glass, seeing the fields of Falon'din._

_It was dead. I'd killed it. My first kill. Something of honor, especially at my age. I just wanted to be sick, though. Scrub until the crawling feeling went away._

" _Nice job." A warm hand fell on my head and I jerked up to see Zaphikel smiling down on me. As if I'd done something good. But if it was good, why was I nauseous? "Let us say a prayer to Anduril for him," he instructed. "And take it back to the Clan. There will be a celebration for you." A party too? But this didn't feel right? "Cleon?"_

" _Okay." Answer like normal. Smile like I'm proud. I'd ask Ashalle about how I was feeling later. Because even though I was sick and uneasy, I wanted the praise more than anything, especially from Zaphikel and Hahren. "What are the words?"_

* * *

Blood flew everywhere. It coated my armor and dripped from my knives. Crusted on my face and tangled in my hair. More joined it each time my weapons bit into a darkspawn's neck or chest, the corpses falling as their burning blood rained down. Mingling with the rain that fell from the thundering clouds overhead.

Normally, it was only one or two kills and then I was done fighting. Anduril grew angry when hunters became greedy and killed more than their fair share. And with shemlen, it was only ever a few that dared venture too close. The trouble was… well, these creatures seemed endless. What was 'my fair share'? They weren't like anything I'd ever met, which grew feeble and nervous when their fellows died. Instead, they marched on their own dead to continue battle.

High pitched whines and muffled screams barraged my ears as I found a small opening in the battle. Just to catch my breath. The familiar warmth at my back told me Aiden had followed me. Good. I felt better knowing that. We'd been fighting side by side since this mess started.

"If you need water, tilt your head back," I whispered to him. The rain was coming down hard. "Little rain never killed anyone."

"This is more than a little," Aiden rasped back. His head nudged mine, and I took the opportunity to check around. The darkspawn were ignoring us for the other Wardens, for the moment. Fierce and untiring, I saw some of them even smiling as they killed. Weirdos. "How's your back?"

"Hmm?"

"Your back. You took an axe to it."

"I don't think it's that deep." Even if it was, battle fever made it so I didn't feel it. "Good armor."

"Yeah. I've noticed." He jerkily pointed to a set of corpses next to us. Young men and women, eyes open to the rain. Their shattered armor made their fatal wounds look even messier than they should. "Mine's held up to blows that broke others." Yeah. Both of us probably would've been dead twice over if the Couslands hadn't let us raid their armory. "Maker, there's so much _red_ …"

"Hmm?" I turned a bit to try and get a read on him, but his back remained towards me. "Yeah, I suppose." Red, green, brown, black, white… there were a lot of colors all over the place here on the field.

"How are you not bothered?"

"By?"

" _Everything_."

"I'm a hunter," I reminded him bluntly. "I've been killing for years."

"So, one day, I'll become used to this?" I almost said 'yes', but hesitated when I caught a look at his face. Instead, I could only stare as he continued to pant and heave, looking like he was going to break down into either a murderous rage or half-strangled sobs, and I wondered which would be worse when everything was falling apart around us.

Not really sure what to do, I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and tugged him into a one-armed hug. His only acknowledgement was shifted his weight to lean on me, instead of the greatsword he'd stabbed into the ground without my knowing. I wanted to joke, scold, on how that would ruin the weapon, but something told me he honestly didn't care right then.

"My pardon, you two." Only the fact that the darkspawn didn't talk kept me from attacking the interloper. I did, however, snarl at the elderly woman. She took it with a calm smile that reminded me a lot of Keeper Marethari. Or perhaps Keeper Zathrian. "I was wondering if you'd seen the King," she continued, as if being covered in blood was normal. It fell into the wrinkles on her face, stained her white hair. The robes reminded me of Layla's, though there were far more worn, and she held an unwieldy looking staff in hands. "Since you two find a bit of quiet in the chaos."

"No, we haven't," I answered her slowly. Aiden had calmed, but he still leaned on me. "We've been on our own since the charge, really." Surprisingly, the gold armor was really hard to find when everything started staining. "Why?"

"I've a message for him, and it's important." She smiled wryly. "I'm afraid my old eyes don't see quite as well in the dark." Right. Shemlen had poor night vision. "Might you help me?"

"If I can see anything, sure."

"Cleon, we should keep our manners," Aiden mumbled. I glanced at him to see a wan smile. Look like he'd recovered some. "I'm Aiden, Lady Mage. Aiden Tabris."

"Is now really the time for politeness?" I grumbled. It sparked a raucous laugh from him. "Cleon Mahariel."

"I am Senior Enchanter Wynne," the woman greeted, nodding her head at us. Wynne… I knew that name. It came up during the strategy meeting. "You two were with Layla earlier, weren't you?"

"We were," Aiden confirmed. I let him do the talking as I hunted for the Shem-King, or someone who looked like they'd know where he was. "She talked of you." Did she? I didn't remember this.

"Really? I'm glad." She certainly had a warm smile on her face. "I think of Layla as my daughter in many ways. I must admit; I'm worried about her being a Warden."

"Well…"

"Found Duncan," I interrupted, pointing to where Duncan practically decapitated a giant darkspawn with a flying leap. There were very few of them, especially compared to the others, but there were _very noticeable_ on the field. Their size, lack of armor, and giant horns made me wonder just _why_ they looked so different. "Maybe he'll know."

"Right…" Aiden took a shuddering breath before ripping his greatsword from the ground. Mud spewed everywhere, and I couldn't help but compare it to blood from a wound. "Let's make our way over to him," he said. I nodded, and shot ahead of the two of them, making a makeshift path. I knew, without us saying anything, that Aiden would widen the gap behind to make it safer for Enchanter Wynne. She could take care of stragglers, I was sure.

"Cleon," Duncan greeted me as I ducked under a darkspawn's ax and slipped my daggers under its armor to rip its chest to shreds. He paid no attention to the blood that splattered his face. Probably because there was so much there already. "And Aiden. I'm glad to see you two are well. The other Wardens have praised your teamwork." Aiden and I exchanged a silent, confused look at learning _that_. "Ah, Enchanter Wynne, what brings you here?"

"Hoping you know where to find the King," Enchanter Wynne answered, brushing some mud off her robes. "I need to speak with him."

"King Cailan is around here somewhere. We were making our way towards a lull to talk." Well, lucky. "Aiden, Cleon, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," I answered honestly.

A second later, Aiden lied, "Just fine, Master Duncan." I shot him a look, but he merely gave me another wan smile. Well, I suppose even if he _wasn't_ fine, there was nothing to be done about it. "Ah, Your Majesty…"

"What a wonderful group we've gotten together!" There was something disorienting and impressive about how Shem-King Cailan could laugh and smile at a time like this. Every time he moved, blood oozed out of the joints of his armor. Was he injured or did he just get _that_ splattered? Certainly, he wasn't shining in the lightning anymore. "Duncan, as I was saying before that ogre so rudely interrupted…" he began, slowly looking around the battlefield. "I wanted your opinion on when we should signal for the beacon." I grimaced as I remembered the original plan. Get behind and flank. But there was no end. "I know timing is important, but the soldiers are getting ragged."

"Actually, that's what I needed to talk to you about, Your Majesty," Enchanter Wynne murmured. Her smile dropped for dark worry, and the grip on her staff tightened. "I sent a test message to Layla not long ago, to ensure our connection would be fresh for the beacon. She gave me troubling news."

"Troubling?"

"Darkspawn have taken over the Tower." …Wha…? "The group is racing to the top as we speak, but they've already encountered a great amount of resistance." Aiden and I shared a wide-eyed look. This wasn't supposed to happen! "They've had to barricade the doors behind them to ensure they weren't overrun." No…

I started to voice something, but it died when I saw Shem-king Cailan's face. There was no cocky smile. No arrogant gleam. There was real fear there. Fear and sorrow and guilt. They lined his face as he looked away, up to the Tower that so many depended on. "I see," he murmured at last. His shoulders slumped briefly, but straightened before anyone could say anything about it. "Send another message to light the beacon as soon as they can, then."

"Of course."

"I also want the more injured to start falling back with mages who specialize in the healing arts."

"I'll lead them. I am a Spirit Healer."

"Thank you, Senior Enchanter." He gave her a wan smile, and she bowed before leaving. As she disappeared into the chaos, though, he sighed, pushing sweaty locks out of his face. He didn't seem to notice the blood that smeared along his cheek. "How did they get there, Duncan?"

"There must've been a tunnel we didn't see," Duncan answered softly. He looked calm on the surface, but his grip on his weapons seemed far too tight. "There has to be a Vanguard or General here." What was the difference? "Everything is far too organized, King Cailan. We…" He trailed off, glancing at Aiden and me.

But it seemed Shem-King Cailan didn't care we were right here. "We underestimated them," he finished tiredly. I found myself wondering just how old he was. He looked as tired as Zaphikel had in his last moments, and I didn't like the comparison one bit. "There were no signs of the Archdemon, so we thought we could get a quick victory here. But I guess this'll be like the Fourth Blight, huh?"

"Fereldan won't necessarily be like Antiva." What were they talking about? "You're certainly not trying to hold a single city against impossible odds."

"No, I just led our army against it." Shem-King Cailan sighed heavily and looked directly at Aiden and me. "I'm sorry, you two. You probably didn't need to hear that when you're so tired."

"It is fine, your majesty," Aiden reassured automatically. It didn't sound convincing with his swaying. "Please, just pretend-"

"No, I won't. This is a bad situation, and I'm not Nuada. I can't deny what's in front of me." He glanced at Duncan briefly before continuing, "might I ask you two to help move the wounded?"

"Yes, your majesty." Aiden took my arm and dragged me away, but I turned back to look at the two leaders. Their heads were bowed as they discussed something I couldn't hear over the rain and screams, and I couldn't… I honestly couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't going to see them again.

"Creators, please hear me," I whispered as I turned away, following Aiden as we raced by the soldiers all fighting and dying around us. "Please see us through this coarse and let us find victory in the darkness."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Battlefield drama. Not really a lot to say here. Short chapter! …Sorry for the delay… busy September. The Fourth Blight, by the way, started in Antiva, and quickly devoured it. It ended up being the last land liberated, if I'm remembering correctly. (Read Last Flight if you want more details. It's SUPER GOOD and super dark).
> 
> Next Chapter – The Beacon with Layla


	26. Chapter 25) The Beacon

**Chapter 25) The Beacon**

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"Are you ready?" Senior Enchanter Sweeney asked me excitedly. I shared his enthusiasm. Today would be the first day I tried a fourth leveled spell, the great Inferno! I was one of the youngest to ever be elevated to it, and Sweeney was the one overseeing my endeavor today. Irving was in a meeting with Knight-Commander Greagoir._

_"Yes!" I cheered, bouncing on my feet. I was already calling the magic around me to crackle and warm, prepping ahead._

_"All right. Stand there." Since Inferno was known for encompassing a wide area, I wasn't in one of the normal areas, but a warded off hallway where few went. A templar was stationed on either side, to keep anyone from coming. "You're already calling for fire, but call for more. This isn't a simple fireball you throw. This is a storm you whip around you. Force the very air to burn." I did as instructed forming a shaky fiery column around me. "Good, good. Steady your breathing, Layla. You're doing wonderfully for a first attempt." Yay! "Just… hey, wait, listen to the templars!" Huh? "DON'T COME-"_

_An explosion shook the entire Tower then, and I only found out later what all had happened. An apprentice had been carrying volatile chemicals for his teacher and had decided to take that hallway as a shortcut. He had disobeyed the templars orders and run right into my spell, igniting the chemicals. He'd died instantly. The shaking had knocked down many heavy things, injuring people who hadn't even been nearby. I'd gotten burn scars on my back and Sweeney was never able to see quite right again._

_And even though I knew it wasn't my fault, I could never cast a fourth level spell or a fire spell without remembering the smell of charred flesh and the screams of pain resulting from a horrible, horrible accident._

* * *

I bit back a sigh as I felt Wynne's 'presence' fade away to the ether and opened my eyes. Shaking my head to better ground myself, I stretched and stood up from where I'd sat down to drift briefly into the Fade to 'talk' to Wynne. I just wished it had been a more optimistic conversation.

"So, anything?" I rubbed my eyes and looked up at Alistair as he walked over to me. I glanced behind him to see Nuada checking the strength of our latest barricade. "Layla, hello?" Alistair flashed a grin as he tried to catch my attention. "Anyone in there?"

I flushed as I realized I was unintentionally ignoring him. "I am sorry, Alistair," I mumbled awkwardly. "I am… mostly grounded." I shook my head again and focused on him. "Are you well?"

"Yeah, I didn't add any bruises to the ones you healed earlier." Thank the Maker for that. "You going to heal Nuada?"

"He will not let me." I could not keep the sourness out of my voice. "He told me to tend to you, and refuses to let me near when I have healing magic ready."

"Well, he does have the best armor of us. Maybe he's not as injured." It still would not hurt to let me check! "You holding up?"

"Yes, I am." I winced as screams filtered in from up ahead. Were they darkspawn or soldiers…? I honestly could not tell anymore. "I…"

"Oh, great. _More_. Curse the blighters and their numbers." Every floor we hit seemed to just have more darkspawn, not less. "You never answered my question about the message, though."

"Oh! My apologies!" I ducked my head in embarrassment, flushing at his gentle laugh. "We are to light the beacon as soon as we are able."

"All right. Let's hope it's not too late." He sighed, patted my head, and turned back to Nuada. "Well?"

"Well, if they shoot magic at it, it'll collapse, but it might hold a bit against simple warriors," Nuada answered. He rolled his shoulders as he walked up, before palming his sword and shield again. I frowned over the cut over his eye and my fingers itched to heal it. "But what should we do from here?"

"You mean we have options for once?" Alistair joked, picking up his own sword and shield from the floor. "I thought it was hack and slash until there aren't anymore and barricade, just like before."

"Since we're getting close to the top, there should be more narrow corridors, so we _actually_ have the option of crashing through and setting up a trap before running like mad and setting up more barricades." Nuada shrugged. "At least, that's what I'm assuming. If this place is anything like the other Tevinter Towers I've been in."

"You've been in many?"

"Tevinters _loved_ their towers. I'm sure they were compensating for something." Alistair barked a laugh at that, but I blushed a little in embarrassment. "So, what'll it be?"

"Personally? I like the trap idea. We're not going to last much longer for drawn out battles." I could agree to that. "Layla?"

"I am afraid all I know are glyphs, so I do not know how to _help_ set traps," I answered slowly. "But I think it would be best, at least for me."

"Oh, I've already a trap in mind," Nuada declared loftily. I waited for him to explain, but he just moved to the door ahead and peeked around. "Okay. Ready to run?"

"Yay, time to stampede," Alistair deadpanned. I had to cover my mouth to smother my giggle. "Right. Layla, in the middle. I'll be last." Huh? Why?

"Alistair, I'd rather you be first, actually, so I can keep a better eye for where to set the trap."

"Oh, you don't want me to lead. We'll get lost, something with be destroyed, and we'll be stranded somewhere without any pants." Uh…

"Well, that sounds like a night after downing some aquae lucidis." Wait, what was…? "Alistair, just get in front."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Alistair sighed and ambled over to the entrance. "…You would give me the fun job."

"Go already." Shoving Alistair a bit, Nuada grabbed my wrist and tugged me forward. "Run fast," he advised before shoving me too. I was both glad and not glad that he did. The room was completely filled with darkspawn, and _all_ of them were looking right at us.

Still, Alistair crashed into the closest ones to make an opening and Nuada and I followed close behind, jumping and ducking as appropriate to avoid the countless numbers of sharp objects heading out way as we broke through the group. I squeaked as an arrow grazed my face, wincing at the burst of pain. But I did not stop. I was too scared too. I would like to think Alistair and Nuada were too.

"Layla!" Nuada yelled as we rounded a corner. There were none ahead of us, thank the Maker. "Set down some of that grease spell stuff here!" Huh? "Just do it!"

"Ah, yes?" I agreed, still horribly confused. I turned around briefly, tripping over my own feet as I prepped the spell and just slung it through the air. I winced as it splattered, wondering if that was all right. The darkspawn were still chasing us. "Um…" Before I could say anything more, Nuada snagged me by the shoulder and slung me behind him as he threw something forward. It looked like a small vial, and I almost asked what it was. But then it hit the grease and a wave of fire _erupted_ , devouring the darkspawn and blocking the way.

I thought I heard Nuada make some quip, but I could not focus. All I could see, and hear, was the flames. I pressed my hand to my mouth as I attempted to not vomit as old memories surfaced, locked my knees to try and keep from collapsing. But neither really worked. The world tilted strangely and harsh, deep coughs ripped from my throat as my eyes _burned_ like the darkspawn. My cheek crashed into something cold and hard, but it was not into someone forcibly stepped between the fire and me that I could register anything. Even then, it took me quite a long while of coughing, wheezing, shaking, and slow blinking to realize the something had been Nuada's armor, and the _someone_ had been him.

"Hey, you in the present again?" he asked me softly. There was no judgement in his face, no pity or even confusion. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you had a fear of fire." I almost demanded how he did not, but logic checked the urge in time. He was not from the Tower, during the attack on Highever, I had been far too scared to let old memories bubble up, and when we camped, Cleon had always made the campfire. "Layla, can you hear me?" Cold, gauntleted hands cupped my face. "You're incredibly pale."

"I…" I croaked, coughing again. My throat hurt. "Um…"

"Do you want to punch me?" Huh?! "If it'll make you feel better about this, feel free."

I opened my mouth and closed it a few times, trying to think of a reply. "That… that does not make sense."

"It doesn't?" He flashed a grin. "I recall you wanting to attack me in anger a while back." I honestly did not know what surprised me more: that he remembered, or that he _actually referenced_ something to do with Highever. "So…"

"I… I am not angry." I was just… ill. I was scared. I was coming out of a panic. "Sh-should we be standing here?"

"Honestly, no, we shouldn't." I appreciated the truth. "But you weren't in any condition to move forward."

"But Alistair is waiting."

"Yes, he is. Can you move?"

"I have to." I took a shuddering breath and looked him right in the eye. For some reason, his eyes widened. "What is it?"

"…You're a brave woman, Layla." He took my hand and led me to the next room, where Alistair was prepping for yet another barricade. I told myself my flush was leftover from the panic. It was the only thing that made sense.

"All good?" Alistair asked when he noticed us. He shut the door behind us and started reinforcing it with scattered, broken weapons. Nuada let go of me to help. "I mean… we somehow survived the suicide run there."

"Yes, I am fine now," I answered him. It was not quite a lie. I was at least better. "I am-"

Alistair stopped my apology by ruffling my hair, laughing at my squeak. "If you're ready to continue, then let's get this set up and move."

"Very well."

* * *

After blocking the door, we raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The air was moist and sharp, crackling with the electricity of the storm raging outside. We were close to the top. We had to be.

The ground shook as we ran into the final, open-walled room and I wondered if the Tower had been struck. But Alistair's eyes were far too wide for something like that. "Oh, great," he said with a slight shrug. "We have an ogre up here." I almost asked what he meant, but then _it_ came into view. I stared at the thing and could only barely breath as I watched it draw itself to its full height, blood dripping down from razor teeth and body parts tumble out of its grip.

Commander Duncan had been right. It was _impossible_ to not know when an ogre was nearby, if they all looked like _this_.

"Layla," Nuada whispered to me as the ogre studied us. I felt remarkably like a rabbit facing down a starving wolf. "Can you light the beacon?"

"H-huh?" My voice shook as I just stared at him. He stared right back, firm and confident just as before. "I…"

"Can you?" I tried to get a read on him, but did not really find anything. It was a simple question. Could I or could I not? Whatever the answer was, it looked like he would accept it.

So, I opened my mouth to say 'no'. But my treacherous voice had other plans. "Y-yes." Why? Why did I just say that? I still was panicking from before and…

"All right." His face softened slightly in a smile more real than any of the others I'd seen him wear today. "Thank you." The ogre suddenly roared and charged for us. "We'll keep it off you. Go." I tried to protest, but his smile was replaced with a smirk and he turned his attention to Alistair. "Ready?"

"Oh, I'm _always_ ready for an ogre killing," Alistair laughed. Strangely, as the two palmed their swords and shields, they tapped the sides of their swords together. The metallic 'cling' was strangely loud amidst the roaring and shaking ground. "Tag team, go!"

I turned away as they began fighting, steeling my courage for what I had just agreed to do. I crept around the room, wincing as the fierce wind slammed rain into me, jumping at each crack of thunder and spark of lightning as I made my way to the brazier at the edge of the room. That _had_ to be where I needed to light the beacon, yes? It was the only thing that made since.

Ignoring the yells and roars and sounds of flesh crashing into metal, I approached the brazier, checking to make sure it had tinder. It did, so all I had to do was light it. I patted my robe and whimpered when I realized I did not have the rod of fire with me. It was in my pack, deep in camp and far from me. I glanced around and saw no convenient torches or sparks. Unlike Nuada, I did not carry bombs. So, if I was going to light the beacon just as I said I would, I would _have_ to cast a spell of fire. But… but _could_ I? I was shaking at the mere thought, and unsteady hands never led to steady spells. If my magic went out of control _here_ …

I glanced back and saw Alistair and Nuada fighting off the ogre, doing everything they could to make sure it never caught sight of me. They were depending on me. The people on the battlefield… they were depending on me, too. I… I had to _try_ , huh?

I took a shuddering breath and tried to still my mind. Memories of the Incident bounced through my head and made my stomach turn. But… but I pushed through it. I had to. I had to just bear the nausea and the sweating and the headaches. I had to concentrate solely on making the magic near my hand _ignite_ …

A sudden burst of warmth nearly made me yelp, but I bit my lip until it bled to keep quiet as I stared at the small, wavering flame hovering between my palms. It looked absolutely pathetic. But it would be enough. It had to be. I… I honestly couldn't do more!

Shaking my head, I leaned forward and urged the fire forward, into the tinder. It sparked instantly, roaring into a frenzy and casting the room in an eerie red-orange light. Lightning flashed in time, making me squeak. I was still trembling and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to breath and calm down. I did it. It was okay. No one had been hurt. It was done. I should not cry, even if my eyes burned. I should not scream, even as the sound bubbled in my throat. It was fine. _It was fine_.

I turned to let Alistair and Nuada know that I had succeeded, but gasped when I saw them. The ogre had Alistair in its grip and was slowly crushing him to death. I watched him flail, trying to break free, and wondered just what I could do. I _should_ use a spell, but I still shook far too much to use a proper offensive spell.

But even as I processed it, the ogre screeched, hand loosening on Alistair as it slowly toppled to the side. I glanced down at its legs and saw Nuada, blood dripping down his face, removing his sword from the ogre's knee. Alistair took advantage of the ogre's pain to wriggle free and sling himself forward burying his sword into the ogre's chest and crashing his shield into its throat. When it hit the ground, it was completely still, dead as dust.

My feet were already moving for them, as Nuada wiped off the blood and Alistair staggered off the ogre's corpse. "The beacon is lit!" I yelled, focusing on healing magic. _Healing_ magic could go wild. The only consequence would be my tiring quicker than usual, and that was a feeling I was slowly recognizing. "Hold still, please. I'll…"

"Get Alistair patched up," Nuada ordered shakily. I frowned because I could _see_ the bruise purpling his neck and reached for him anyway. He ducked away from me, and I saw the shallow cut at the top of his head. "I just took a hit that damaged my throat a little. Alistair's armor is cracked." Ah…

"Yeah, who'd have thought iron would be so breakable?" Alistair wheezed. I hesitated, but seeing the shards of armor clanking to the floor made me tend to him first, just as Nuada asked. "Thanks for the hamstringing. He'd have crushed me otherwise."

"Yeah, no problem." There was a dull thud and we all turned back to the entrance of the room. "…We don't have anything to barricade that door."

"So, what's going to happen?" I asked slowly, healing Alistair's cracked ribs.

"We fight." Nuada straightened and rolled his shoulders. "We fight," he repeated. "That's all we can do."

"…" I glanced around the room, and realized he was right. There was nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run. We were trapped, and a bunch of _creatures_ were coming to kill us. "Then let me get you two fixed up."

Maker, _help us._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So, this is why Layla has a fear of fire. Thought it would be a good place to show both where she got it from and her pushing through it. Because, sometimes, you do really have to push through trauma, and it's a horribly hard thing to do (I'm basing Layla's reaction on my own while I had to force my way through phobias). Also, you cannot convince me that the Tower didn't have accidents. They teach FIRE SPELLS IN THE LIBRARY, OKAY?!
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude: Elspeth and Loghain


	27. Interlude - Niece and Uncle

**Interlude – Niece and Uncle**

* * *

She sits on the edge of the bridge, watching the battle below and in the distance. From here, she can't tell individual people at all. It is simply a writhing mess of people and fire, everything screaming and dying. Still, she wishes there were more soldiers fighting down there, simply for the extra help. Perhaps with more fighters, they could give the darkspawn pause. But she knows that's not the case, and feels a twinge of anger at why. She wishes her uncle had swallowed his loathing of Orlais enough to allow them to help. She knows why, of course, but sometimes, she thinks that her uncle forgets that _no one_ in Fereldan liked Orlais. No, not even her father, who had smiled and played their Games while serving there as diplomat. But they could not afford another war, so why not play diplomacy? Why not swallow a bit of pride to make the country flourish again, and let children know what it's like to grow up with both parents? Prevent Orlais from thinking that they will get more from war than trade, and Fereldan will rebuild.

It is always better to be pragmatic and diplomatic than prideful and openly antagonistic. It is better to run the risk of fighting someone else's enemies in someone else's wars for someone else's reasons if it means better trade, better guards, and promises of help. That's what she's always thought. She wishes her uncle saw things the same way, but, sadly, he probably never would. His wounds ran too deep and scarred too messily.

She glances up at her uncle, and sees him studying her. She cocks her head to the side in silent question, but he simply shakes his head. She nods in reply and returns to watching the fighting. The darkspawn just keep coming, though, far more than any had ever imagined from the previous battles. This is a Blight, the likes Thedas hasn't seen in over four hundred years. She sees the trees slowly rot and shudders to think of the darkspawn over the beautiful fields of Fereldan. The country had been _named_ for fertile valleys, but the darkspawn would destroy them. She hates that.

She sees a strange light out of the corner of her eye, rather like a sunset, and it startles her from her thoughts. She stands and turns towards the light, only to stare. In the distance is the Tower of Ishal, with fire blooming at its top, flicking in the rain despite all logic. The beacon… they had lit it? But… but was this really a time for it? She was no master of strategy or tactics, having studied logistics more, but there were still so many darkspawn…

Beside her, her uncle stares at the beacon too, face grim as the rain beat down on them both. "Sound…" he begins. He glances at the field, then turns back to the beacon. "Sound the retreat." The words hit her like rocks, daggers in her skin. She wants to reel back from the pain, but can't. She's frozen.

Cauthrien is not so silent. "But sir, what about the king?"

"Do as I command." Her uncle's voice is firm. This is his decision. Retreat.

She watches Cauthrien hesitate a moment, but ultimately, the female warrior nods and issues commands to the others. The soldiers begin marching off, and she turns her attention to her uncle. He's still staring at the beacon, and she wonders what thoughts are going through his head. She debates asking him, but decides against it. She knows the look on his face. That look of bittersweet pain… it always shows up when he thinks of Uncle Maric. She knows, then, that whatever her uncle is thinking… it had something to do with Uncle Maric, and she cannot bring herself to ask what it is.

Instead, she turns her attention back to the field, where countless soldiers are still fighting, and dying. All of them, likely, are hoping for reinforcements that would not come. Her uncle taps her shoulder and begins to walk away. Clearly, he expects her to follow him. But, as she stares below, she realizes something heartbreakingly painful. She can't run a second time. The first time hurt too much. A second would kill her, turn her into the type of woman Empress Celene was, turn her into the type of woman Anora was. She doesn't want to be like them. She knows that she'll be worse than them both if she becomes like them. She doesn't want that.

So, she turns to her uncle and, for the first time in her life, asks him a favor. "Trust me." Startled, he whirls and stares at her. He opens his mouth to say something, but she continues to whisper, "Believe in me, Uncle Loghain. Trust in me. I won't die, so just believe and wait. We'll talk later. Okay?" She debates forcing a smile, but she's not her twin. She's never been good at faking emotions, just the lack of it. "Until we meet again, Uncle." She turns and runs, sliding down to the battlefield below.

Behind her, she hears her uncle's scream, "ELSPETH!" But she keeps moving forward, without once looking back. This is her path, and she'll meet it head on. She's as much of a Cousland as her brothers, after all. Suicidal stubbornness and insanity is in her blood too. But so is the determination to succeed in her duties.

Hopefully, her uncle will believe in her, just this once…

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Right, Interlude. What are interludes? They're where I get to show info that the normal POV characters will just never be able to see, such as Loghain's retreat here. Some will be based on in-game cutscenes, like this one, while others will just be extra info to help flesh out some of the other characters a bit, since we're not in their heads. ALL interludes will, likely, be short.
> 
> Next Chapter – The Retreat with Aiden


	28. Chapter 26) The Retreat

**Chapter 26) The Retreat**

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"Aiden, do you know how the legend of the Savior King began?" Valendrian asked me as I sat at the tree, taking a break from my chores._

_"The Rebel Queen's death, right?" I answered automatically, leaning against the cool, rough bark. "Didn't some banns betray her?"_

_"Yes, indeed." He sat down beside me. "Some banns pretended to side with her, only to kill her themselves."_

_"Why are you bringing it up, Valedrian?"_

_He smiled, and pointed up to the sky, which soon erupted in beautiful fire-flowers. "Because I'm sure a lot of people are going to be asking what's being celebrated."_

_"They're celebrating a death?"_

_"Her path ended the day the Savior King's began. So, yes. Sometimes, it takes the death of the old for the young to become legends."_

_"That's morbid."_

_"It is, indeed." He patted my head. "Now, off to those chores."_

_"Yes, sir."_

* * *

I brought my greatsword up and around, slicing a group of five darkspawn into pieces, and ignoring the blood that splattered my face, caught in my mouth. The pounding rain washed most of it into my armor anyway. Cleon was somewhere in the corner of my eye, darting about and sliding under guards. Me? I just broke through, and watched everything turn to red mud. The mages were behind me, continuing to heal who they could, enough to send them back to camp.

Shaking my head to keep my vision from tunneling, I looked up at the Tower, just as I had minutes ago. The beacon was still shining in the dark, fire sharp against the rain and clouds. But, even though it was there, there had been no reinforcements. Had something happened? What could've…?

Something bit into my neck and I grabbed it by the head, ripping it off and throwing it to the ground. A hurlock, if I'd heard the other Wardens right. Weaponsless, it had turned to teeth. As it tried to get up, I slammed my pommel into its skull, cracking it and sending the blood and bone flying. My stomach rebelled and I had to fight off the urge to be sick. I half-wanted to fall into that rage I'd had when killing everything in the Arl's estate. At least I couldn't _think_ then! But I couldn't. I couldn't get the rage up. It took everything to keep the _bile_ down. No need to add more to the mess.

"Wait, what's she doing here?!" I heard Cleon yelp. I jerked my head up in time to see Lady Elspeth racing through the chaos. Though she was armed with a strange white and moss-green bow and a quiver full of arrows, neither were out as she ran, ducking and dodging and twisting her way through the battlefield. Like she was dancing. "Especially…!" Especially alone. I could see no other fresh faced soldiers around. What…?

"I'm going after her," I found myself saying. "Cleon, secure the area!" I thought I heard him protest, but I ignored it in favor of surging forward. Back into the main part of the battlefield. As I ran, I cleaved and scythed through darkspawn, pointing the way to where the healers had set up. Maybe they'd get out alive. Maybe not. But I tried, right?

"Aiden, I thought you were ordered to help with the wounded!" I turned at the voice and saw it to be King Cailan's. We'd ended up back to back after both whirling to clear an open space to talk briefly. Blood poured down the side of his face from a head wound, but his eyes were sharp with protests and questions. "What are you doing here? I need you _there_?"

"M-my apologies, your majesty." Why had I disobeyed? "I saw Lady Elspeth on the field and moved without thinking."

"El…" The word caught in his throat and he started coughing. I hesitantly patted his back, and grimaced at how red my gloves became. Splatter or…? "Andraste's flaming blood, what's she doing here?"

"I don't know." Honesty. Yay. "Shall I continue looking for her?"

"I…"

"Ah, Cailan, there you are." Despite the bleeding grazes and blistering patches of skin, Lady Elspeth showed no signs of pain or tiredness as she slid to a stop next to us. "I've been looking for you," she continued, not even waiting for the king to finish his wordless protest. "You need to fall back. Uncle Loghain is leaving."

"And sends you as the messenger?" King Cailan asked dryly. Lady Elspeth flinched and looked away. "…Well, this will be an awkward conversation. I know we're not getting along lately, but it's really not like him to just leave a bunch of soldiers behind. Well, I suppose if he thought it were for the good of Fereldan overall, maybe…" He sighed, and tugged Lady Elspeth into a one-armed hug. She leaned her cheek on his shoulder, but said nothing. "You were up higher. How bad are we talking?"

"There's no end, Cailan. That must be why Fergus couldn't come back."

"All right." He tightened his hug on her briefly before releasing her and snagging a couple of fighting soldiers nearby. "We're falling back," he told them. They just stared. "The situation far exceeds expectations. Find your comrades and relay the order." They hesitated a bit more, but nodded and saluted, racing to do as ask. "Aiden?" I stiffened at my name. "Mind doing me a favor?"

"What is it, your majesty?" I asked automatically. I glanced around and saw the darkspawn closing in. A few ogres were approaching too. Not good.

"Mind helping Elspeth get out of here?" For a brief second, I saw Lady Elspeth glower, but King Cailan simply smiled at her and her face blanked back to stoicism. "I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course, your majesty." I bowed awkwardly, and turned to Lady Elspeth, who gave me a small, sad smile in reply. "Shall we?"

"I'm in your care, Aiden," she whispered, managing a curtsey in the leather skirt. I barely heard it over the noise of running soldiers fighting for their lives. "Thank you."

As we ran, Lady Elspeth and I kept shouting, "Fall back! Retreat!" My throat throbbed each time I even opened my mouth, but I kept repeating the words over and over. Some soldiers slipped in the mud or tripped over corpses, but the people nearby helped them. The only ones who seemed to continue the fight were the Wardens, who seemed all to willing to intercept the darkspawn to allow more to escape.

"Just keep going!" one of them told us as he just flat out picked up and _threw_ a genlock at a nearby darkspawn mage, killing them both. "You, newbie, find Duncan if you can! If not, grab the treaties and keep running!"

"Ulster, need your arm over here!" another one called from nearby. I could only tell he was a thin, androgynous man with all the armor on. "Hurry and run, you two!"

"We are," I muttered to myself. Thankfully, though, the rain made it so that they didn't hear as Lady Elspeth and I kept running. We had to slam to the ground, though, as a lightning spell crashed above our heads. "Magic isn't very friendly, is it?"

"I think a mage panicked and loosed a spell too soon," Lady Elspeth mused, picking herself up and absently wiping the mud off her face. "CAILAN!" I was startled by the sudden yell, and whirled to try and find out just why she'd loosed one. I found out immediately, though. King Cailan had stopped to pick up a few fallen soldiers. Right as an ogre had thundered up. With no time to dodge, he could only stare as the ogre swung his fist, wait as it crashed into him.

Lady Elspeth and I could only watch as he went flying, blood already raining down, and crash to the ground with a loud, metallic thud.

She was the first to react, running for him. I followed just a few seconds later, mostly to keep them both in sight. "Cailan!" Lady Elspeth yelled as we approached. She dropped to her knees, leaning over to shield him from the rain. "Cailan!"

"El… Elspeth…" I heard him rasp as I slowed to a stop a respectful distance away. I was surprised he could speak, but kept still as Lady Elspeth fell to her knees at his side. "El…"

"I'm here." She gently touched his cheek to reinforce her words. I glared up at the sky. The clouds had taken a different color than a normal storm, and the rain just fell even harder. Blighted storm. "I'm here. Can't you see me?"

"No. Dark." No, there… well, humans did have poor night vision, but… "Elspeth… important… Ali…"

"Easy, Cailan," She brushed the bloodstained, rain slick hair out of the king's face and I tried to figure out what he was trying to say. "I already know." Know what? "Just leave it to me, okay? Trust me."

"Always…" King Cailan attempted to smile, but the effect was wasted as more blood dribbled out of his mouth. "Thank… you… little…" I strained my ears for the rest of the sentence, but heard nothing. Lady Elspeth leaned back on her heels, and the rain beat down on the king's face, but there was no flinching as his eyes stared at the sky, not seeing anything.

Lady Elspeth remained like that for a few minutes, head down and eyes closed, before straightening, back ramrod straight as she looked up. Stonefaced, just as she'd been those days after Highever fell. "What's the fastest way back to camp?" she asked me softly. I just blinked at her, a little baffled. "Aiden?"

"Ah, my apologies, my lady," I yelped, realizing I almost disobeyed an order. "It's… uh…" Not that I really had a clue. "I'm not sure, actually. I know _a_ way, but…"

"That will do." Her voice was even. "Where is it?"

"That way." I nodded to the distant bridge, frowning as I realized something was… off about it. Wasn't sure what. But it didn't look right. "Though, I would like to find Cleon before we head up, if you do not mind, my lady."

"Is that not him there?" she asked, pointing in the distance. I whirled and saw Cleon fighting against a strange looking darkspawn. Heavily armored compared to the others, with a horned helmet covering its face. Fear dripped down my spine as I saw it _shatter_ one of Cleon's daggers, shards flying and digging into his face.

I started for him, but Master Duncan beat me to it, crashing into the darkspawn and sending it sprawling to the ground. "Vanguard," I heard him growl as he grabbed Cleon by the arm and tugged him over to me. He looked down and winced when he saw the King's corpse, before going stoic. "I thought so. They've been far too organized."

"Uncle…" Lady Elspeth began. He didn't even look surprised to see her there. "I…"

"I can guess what happened." He briefly glanced up at the beacon, still flickering, and sighed. "Aiden. Cleon."

"Sir?" I answered automatically, feeling my back straighten from long years of service. "What do you need?"

"I need you to run." Huh? "Take Elspeth and _run_ , you two." The strange darkspawn slowly stood up and regained its weapons. "She knows where the treaties are. Use them as you see fit."

"And you, Duncan?" Cleon demanded. He was shaking, but I thought it from tension, not fear. Not like me at all. "What about you?"

"My path ends here." Those words were far too calm, and I thought I caught a touch of _relief_ in them. "But this is where yours will begin. GO!" There was such power in his voice that the three of us obeyed without one more word, sprinting up towards the camp even as our legs burned with strain.

I glanced back over my shoulder once. Just once. Master Duncan was fighting that strangely armored darkspawn with everything he had, blood seeping out of his armor as he bellowed orders to the other Wardens nearby. None of them showed any signs of wanting to retreat. In fact, the few who glanced back caught me looking and waved me on with reassuring smiles before they returned to the fray.

When Master Duncan hit the ground, and that strange darkspawn held its axe overhead and swung down, I looked away. That was a bit of red I just couldn't bear to see. But I heard it anyway, in the screams of fury and sorrow loosed by the Wardens, and I had to pause to be sick at the thought of what just happened.

By the time I recovered, Cleon and Elspeth were long ahead of me and I had to catch up, wincing as pain shot up my legs each time my feet hit the ground. I didn't see them as I thundered into the camp, jumping over the beginnings of makeshift barricades. On the bridge, I could see darkspawn writhing, trying to get through. The corpses strewn all over the mud told me some had already. Shaking my head, I stepped over the bodies, heading to the king's tent as my first place to check. For once, I got lucky. They were both right there.

"There you are!" Cleon hissed as I stepped inside. The tent I'd been in just a few hours ago was a mess, like a tornado, or Shianni, had whirled around in it. Papers and blankets were tossed aside. Lady Elspeth raced about, throwing the portraits into a small bag as she ran her fingertips over a chest in the corner. "What happened?"

"Tripped," I lied. He stared at me incredulously, but I just shrugged. I didn't want to talk about it. "So…"

"She ran here. Won't say why. _Again_." Right, he'd had this problem when we were back at Highever. "So I can't even help!"

"It's spelled to only open for a handful of people." Both Cleon and I jumped as Lady Elspeth actually answered us. "I just need to… ah, there we go." The corners of her mouth twitched up as the chest popped open and she quickly reached inside, grabbing papers I recognized. The treaties. She set them to the side and them picked up a longsword. She popped it out of its sheathe and I was startled to see yellow runes dancing across the blade. Wha…?

"Why is it _glowing_?" Cleon growled, glaring at it like that would stop it. "And why are you picking it up?"

"It glows in the presence of darkspawn," Lady Elspeth explained, buckling it awkwardly to her waist. "Uncle Maric found it in the Deep Roads. It used to glow blue, but now it glows yellow because-"

"Do we _really_ need the explanation?"

"It's also said to weaken nearby darkspawn." Cleon scowled, but Lady Elspeth simply stared back at him. "I thought it might be useful."

"Nothing else, she has a back up for when she runs out of arrows, yes?" I reminded Cleon, mostly just to get out of here. "Lady Elspeth, is there anything…?"

"No, there's nothing more to grab," she told me. That said, she quickly flipped through the treaties and thrust two of them at us. "Please, take this in case we're separated." I did as she asked and saw she'd handed me the one for the Tower. Cleon was slower to listen, but it was good logic. I saw him smile slightly and wondered which one he'd gotten. What were they even for? "Are we ready?"

"If you can run with that on your hip, yes," Cleon grumbled. I shot him a look, but he looked back at me unflinchingly, hands tight on his daggers. …Was he hating that he had to run? Maybe that was it, actually. There were tales of Dalish pride, after all. "Let's go."

We dashed out, making our way to the exit. As we did so, we repeated the orders we'd received on the field. "Fall back! Retreat! The battle is lost!" But it didn't seem like they heard us as they continued to hold the barricades, buying time for others to get out. I didn't get it, really. Why would they do that?

Just before we left the ruins, I stumbled again and looked down to see what I'd tripped over. I froze at the sight. Nessa's parents, face down in the mud. I stooped automatically, intending on carrying them, but then… then I realized I had nowhere I could carry them too. "I'm sorry," I whispered as I straightened. I didn't think they could even hear me, but… "I'm so sorry."

And then I turned and _ran_ , leaving behind a world of mud and red that would haunt me for however long I lived.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Here we go, the terrible end to the Battle of Ostagar. Switched up a couple things here. Just minor things for a little more fun. Yes, grabbing Maric's sword here. Esther's bow is the Sorrows of Arlathan, the DLC item you get from completing Witch Hunt. Ulster the Warden was actually mentioned in a previous chapter, chapter 8, I think.
> 
> Next Chapter – Dragons with Nuada. Yes, I said dragons.


	29. Chapter 27) The Bargain

**Chapter 27) The Bargain**

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_"So, you, Uncle Rendon, and Uncle Leonas were able to survive because you and Uncle Leonas knew how to swim?" I asked Father softly. I probably should've kept quiet, but it was rare Father would talk about the Battle of White River. No one blamed him. Only fifty rebels survived that battle. "But how did you evade the guards?"_

_"Taking advantage of Leonas's mother being Orlesian," Father answered absently, staring out the window. I'd have bet anything that if he was really seeing the scenery, he was thinking on how strange it was to be a Fereldan in Orlais for diplomacy. "He had the looks, and accent. That's how we saved quite a few people, actually." He shook his head, looked at me, and unexpectedly tugged me in a tight hug._

_I was scared to feel him shaking, but I decided to ignore it. I was good at that. "Do you wish things had gone differently?"_

_"I would give almost anything to save those soldiers, even now."_

_"Almost?"_

_"Well, yes." He pulled back slightly and kissed my forehead. "I wouldn't give my family for anything. The idea of not marrying Eleanor, and raising three wonderful children with her… now that is absolutely unbearable. I can bear their deaths. Most days."_

_"Oh. Okay, then." I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I just buried my face in Father's warm shoulder and hugged him back. I'd tell Elspeth what I'd learn today later. Today… today, I just wanted to hug my daddy._

* * *

I grimaced, casually knocking back a darkspawn sword and decapitating its wielder. At this point, _everything_ was muscle memory and sheer stubbornness. Though we'd turned the ogre's body into a makeshift barricade, via burning to _make sure_ it was really dead, it had long since turned to ash, stinking and coating the air. The darkspawn just kept coming as well. I wasn't sure why, really. What was the importance of getting this Tower? Was the Archdemon obsessed with reclaiming a piece of the old Imperium? Were they simply attracted by three Wardens? Neither really made sense. The Archdemons of old had never shown that obsession, and if it were Wardens, there were _far more_ down below.

"I have the glyph," Layla whispered behind me. In unison, Alistair and I jumped back and she cast her Glyph of Repulsion, sending the darkspawn scattering for a short while. She had been combining it with the Glyph of Paralysis earlier, buying us a _lot_ of time, but she was too weary to cast the two quickly. "Okay, _now_ , you two are going to let me heal you."

Alistair and I shared a worried look as we noticed her teetering, face grey with exhaustion. There was no way she was going to hold up much longer. "Layla, Nuada and I are fine," Alistair whispered. She tried to glare up at him, but the effect was lost with her stumbling and the way her hair stuck to her sweaty face. "Seriously, we're not even bleeding!" That was a lie, especially on his part, but our armor hid a lot of the wounds. "Sit down for a minute. You're going to kill yourself."

"But…!" She sighed heavily. "Please, at least let me cast Regeneration on you two."

"Do you even have the mana for that? Regeneration is a lot more powerful than healing. I remember that from my studies." She pouted and Alistair grinned. "You can't trick a former templar _that_ easily. You should really switch to Paralysis instead of Repulsion, though. Less mana." Oh, I didn't know that.

"Then, let me put on a Glyph of Warding to protect you two." That was a thing? "We have to hold out until…" By this point, I thought it was obvious that help wasn't going to come. But, of course, I didn't say that.

Instead, I glanced at our enemies, to see how fast they were recovering, and got a nasty shock. "EMISSARY!" I yelled. Layla looked confused, but Alistair paled. "Get down, both of you!" I followed my own order and crouched down behind my shield just in time for the emissary to launch a humongous lightning bolt. It hit right in front of Alistair, scattering large pieces of debris. A few got past my armor and dug deep into my skin, but everything froze when I heard the sound of tearing flesh behind me, followed by a very light, very high gasp.

I turned slowly and paled as I saw Layla collapsing, a large piece of stone wedged in her stomach. She glanced at me very briefly, eyes filled with terror and pain, and then she passed out, blood pooling around the stone as she hit the ground. I immediately sat her up, and checked her pulse. It was faint, but still there. Unfortunately, I had no idea for how long that would be. There was no time, really, to try and bandage her. I wasn't even sure I _could_ with the rudimentary poultices I had.

"Nuada!" I turned back and saw Alistair standing tall, and couldn't help but stare a bit. "I know I'm an idiot and all, Nuada, but the Chantry doesn't let templars take their vows until they learn how to at least neutralize magic attacks for a short area."

"I'm admiring your dashing figure," I deadpanned. He laughed, and it hid the worry and pain in the lines of his face. I looked past him and saw archers preparing to shoot. Maker, you really hate us, huh? "Well, Alistair?"

"Yeah?"

I stood up and angled myself a bit in front of Layla, changing my stance slightly for better defense, just as Uncle Loghain taught me. "If we get through this, remind me to buy you a drink and a night at the Pearl."

"The Pearl?" He shifted his stance too, also in front of Layla.

"It's a brothel."

"Do they sell broth? Why would I want to spend a night eating broth?" I gave him a look and he shrugged. "What?"

The archers had the strings drawn back. "It's a place for prostitutes, Alistair."

"Oh? OH!" He colored and I couldn't help but laugh. "N-no thanks! I'll just take a second drink!"

"Okay." And the arrows flew.

A couple got past my shield. One sliced my cheek. Another went over my eye. But I got off better than Alistair. One managed to slam him in the collar bone, jerking him back and out from behind his shields. More arrows struck him, taking advantage of the cracks in his armor caused by the ogre. He stumbled back and knelt down, leaning his shield up. When the arrows stopped flying and I had a chance to check on him, I found him passed out next to Layla. He'd used the last of his energy to get the shield up to protect them both.

I sighed, rolled my shoulders to relieve the tension and settled myself in front of them as the darkspawn slowly crept closer. We were all probably about to die. I knew this. But I wasn't going to let them take us without a fight, at the very least, and-

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The words were accompanied with a wave of magic that send the darkspawn crashing into the walls, and turning into bloody pulps. "Three Grey Wardens, separated from their comrades? My, my."

"Your timing is impeccable, my lady Flemeth," I breathed, shifting slowly so that I could still keep myself between her and my comrades. Unlike before, she didn't pretend to be the doddering old woman. She'd turned herself into a warrior-queen of old, with maroon armor and a headdress like dragon horns, to impress and intimidate.

Her smile reminded me of Antiva and Orlais, bitter poison hiding in the promise. "Hmm, hmm…" she chuckled, walking towards me slowly. "Oh, how I love your eyes when you've dropped the mask. You look like Sarim. All fierce and strong, willing to face impossible odds if that's what it takes to do what you feel in your duty."

Yeah, I only didn't have my 'mask' on because it was _really stupid_ to play games with her. Even I knew that. "Might I ask what brings you here, my lady?" The only 'jab' I'd allow myself was the way I addressed her. It was a reference to her most famous story, and how my ancestors acquired Highever. Thankfully, she seemed mostly amused by it. "This is quite the distance to travel."

"Not so much when you can fly." She shrugged, stopping _just_ out of my sword's reach. I tightened my grip on the hilt anyway. "I can save them still." Hmm? "They're not quite dead yet."

"You don't do anything without a price."

"Of course not. I've seen far too much to rely on simple _charity."_ She leaned back on one leg and crossed her arms. "So?"

I glanced back at the unconscious Alistair and Layla and set my jaw. This wasn't like with Cleon. There _wasn't_ another option. "Am I the only one who will pay?"

"I will split the price between you and your order." She smiled again. I fought the urge to snarl. "So?"

"We have an agreement." I sheathed my sword, hooked my shield on my back, and turned to the others. "Will you heal them here?"

"I will _hold_ them here." Two spheres of light flew over my shoulder and wrapped around the two. "But we will have to return to the hut for the actual healing. Grab them and come to the window here."

I chose not to answer her as I went to work. I wrangled Alistair's sword and shield into their proper places on him and shifted him awkwardly onto my shoulder. I thought about removing the arrows, but decided against it. So long at the arrows were there, they plugged up the wounds and kept him from bleeding out so quickly. For that same reason, I left the stone in Layla's stomach as I managed to pick her up. I was _startled_ by how light she was. No wonder she wasn't able to handle wearing simple leather armor.

Struggling under their weight, I turned and stared for a brief moment at what was waiting for me. I'd only seen the creature on insignias and in books, but there was nothing in the world that looked like a griffon. "Of all the things you shapeshift into, you choose the _dead_ thing," I muttered to myself, walking over anyway. Then again, griffons were very good at carrying people. So, shaking my head, I got Layla onto her back, and propped Alistair behind her. He groaned and I jumped at the noise. "Alistair?" There was another incoherent noise. "Alistair, it's Nuada. I swear, by all that's holy, focus on me and don't go anywhere near the light. If you don't, I'll… I'll hurt you." Ah, my voice was thick. Damn, this was pathetic.

Flemeth seemed to agree as she gave a sharp cry to hurry up. Rolling my eyes, I slid between Alistair and Layla, supporting them both as best as I could. I absently checked their pulses as I settled in. Alistair's was faint but strong. Layla's… was weak and fluttering. They needed help fast…!

As if she sensed my sudden panic, Flemeth lunged forward and I got to experience something that no one had in ages, flying on a griffon. The wind roared past my ears as we raced through the air, rain pelting us like rocks due to the sheer speed. When I looked down, I thought I saw soldiers staring up, Wardens pointing and shouting at the sight. But I also saw many dead, and being swallowed up by the shadowy darkspawn. Had the beacon come too late?

While I thought that, I became aware of a strange melody twirling through my head. It would've been impossible to hear a sound, but this song seemed to be from within, like I was singing it, or remembering someone who had. It was… breathtakingly beautiful, though. It made my mind and heart _ache_ and made me desperate to recall the memory of where I'd heard this ethereal song.

But I knew very well _that I had never heard this before_.

I slammed my fist into my leg, right on a bruise or scrape I'd suffered before, and the pain my vision white, but the song was out of my head and that was all that mattered. My mouth was dry as I tried to process what else was going on. We were close to the Wilds. Layla, in front of me, was even paler than before, but absolutely still. Alistair was mumbling and groaning behind me, and… and _not directly behind me_. I twisted in time to see Alistair sliding off, half reaching for the sound. I snatched his arm in time, only just barely not tumbling off after him. Gritting my teeth, I checked to make sure Layla was secure and glanced around to make sure no one was trying to attack us. It would be just my luck for an ogre to be down there, ready to throw a rock at us and… and…

Only long years of training kept my grip on Alistair firm as I looked up and saw a dragon descend from the storm clouds above. Jagged spikes burst from is scales, forming a secondary armor that just _burned_ with the taint. Maker, no wonder the darkspawn had been so numerous or crafty.

"Drop him here." I glanced down and saw Morrigan from earlier in the branches of a tree, hands reaching. "Though I would've let the idiot fall," she continued lightly. Her shaking hands and wide eyes betrayed her fear. "Hurry up."

"You have my thanks," I rasped, swinging Alistair to her. She caught him easily, and set him up against the trunk of the tree. Then she reached for me again, and I handed her Layla. Flemeth flew a little higher to drop me off on a neighboring branch before shifting back into her human form, face grim as she studied the battlefield. "I take it this was unexpected?"

"Oh, yes," she agreed quite easily. I winced as a violet light suddenly split the sky, whirling into a storm that took soldiers and darkspawn alike to their deaths. "Morrigan, take over holding the two. I will make Urthemiel retreat." Oh, the thing had a _name_? That was lovely to know! Now I knew what to address the tea invitation too. "Go, quickly." She jumped into the air and quickly shifted into the form of a High Dragon, screeching in fury as she crashed into the Archdemon, sending it tumbling into the trees.

"Well, of all the things I thought were going to happen today, this was _definitely_ not on the list," I muttered as I watched them tear into each other. "Is she going to be all right?"

"Do you truly think that something can kill my mother?" Morrigan retorted easily, smiling smugly. It almost hid the fear in her eyes.

"If there is anything that can, I'd probably put my money on the Taint." Fire sparked in the air above, and I wondered how it could burn with all the rain.

"Come, we must hurry." With those words, Morrigan tore her eyes from the dragon fight and glanced between Layla and Alistair. "I can shift and-"

"I can carry Alistair if you can get Layla down," I interrupted. She nodded and gathered Layla up before easily hopping down from branch to branch. When I had Alistair situated on my shoulder, I slid down a little more clumsily and carefully.

"Follow me." I resisted the urge to retort about how obvious that comment was. "Quickly." That _also_ didn't need to be said.

Still, I couldn't help but spare one glance to the battlefield and wondered what had happened to everyone. But then I turned away and followed after Morrigan. I couldn't do anything for them here. I had to focus on Alistair and Layla.

What was the point of remembering and worrying about the things you couldn't do a damn thing about?

* * *

I leaned against the rough wall, biting back pants and groans. Bloody flames, I wasn't expecting _that_ to be my prince. I didn't even know you could _do_ that!

"Hmm… a shame you aren't a mage," Flemeth commented lightly as she leaned over me. She'd come out of her fight with no visible wounds. I wished we could just sic her on it. "You'd make a fine toy if you were."

"As fun as that sounds, my lady, I am quite busy," I wheezed, forcing a smile to hide my unease. "Will they live?"

"Since I gave you their wounds? Yes." I was still _really confused_ by how that worked. "Though, I'm certain _you_ will bear scars from it, to go with the ones you've already gained." She gently tapped the scabbing over my eye and cheek. "You've paid admirably. You didn't scream once." I bloodied the inside of my mouth to keep it that way. "Tch, now where is that girl?" Flemeth straightened and walked to the door of the hut, glaring outside. "It doesn't take that long to study a battlefield."

"Might I ask about the other half of the price?" I carefully pushed myself up and shifted my feet sharply to keep from falling as pain ricochet through me. The worst wound I'd taken was the stomach wound from Layla. No wonder she'd been so terrified back then. "You mentioned it was for my order?" I stumbled over to the masses of blankets and pillows set up for Layla and Alistair and checked their pulses. Both were steady and strong, simply asleep from their treatment.

"Oh, yes." Flemeth turned to face me, smiling again. "But it isn't bad, I assure you. I just need you to stop the Blight." Oh, you mean her price was what we were going to do anyway? That was merciful. "After all, I could kill the archdemon many times, but it wouldn't stick." Huh? "Ah, there's Morrigan. Perfect timing." Yeah, now I couldn't ask her what she was talking about. I knew Wardens were necessary, but if I could figure out _why_ that would've been better. Elspeth and I had never thought to ask.

"Is the business concluded?" Those were the first words out of Morrigan's mouth when she walked inside the hut. She saw me and frowned. "I still think you an idiot for agreeing to take the price all for yourself."

"I'm so startled you didn't change your mind in the hour you've been away," I deadpanned. "Now how will I win your heart, oh beauteous goddess of the woods?" I could tell she had no idea whether she wanted to laugh or kill me. "Oh, woe is me!"

Flemeth, for her part, chuckled before nodding at her daughter. "Tell me of the battle, child," she ordered, leaning against the doorframe. She casually changed her form to look more like the harmless old woman from earlier. I tried not to show my unease at it. "Well?"

"It was a total loss," Morrigan stated bluntly. I wasn't sure if I wanted to wince or sigh, but I certainly wasn't surprised. With the Archdemon showing up so suddenly, I somehow already knew the outcome. "The general they were all depending on quit the field." …Wha…? "Their king is dead." I… "As if their Warden-Commander…" Even…? "There were no surviving Wardens." No…

"Any missing?"

"Those two elves from earlier." Oh. "I could find neither hide nor hair of them in the field or in the camp." That… "The soldiers that were with the general also survived." So, was Elspeth okay then? …No, she probably ran down into the field to get Cailan. I knew her. "I didn't find those two you asked me to look for either. The noble lordling who was close to the king and the archer girl with the braid." Wha…? "Not that I understand _why_ you wanted me to keep an eye for them too."

"Sentimentality." Flemeth shrugged. "I have a soft spot for the family." She glanced at me and I suddenly wondered if the price had been lightened because it was me paying. No, that was a ridiculous thought. "But isn't that some good news?" I stared as she gave me a small, small smile. "A bit of hope for you."

I made myself smile at her. "I suppose so," I murmured politely. "But I think I will rest now, if you'll excuse me." Without waiting for them to reply, I laid down on some blankets next to Alistair and pretended to fall asleep.

No, don't give me that. Don't give me hope. I didn't need it. Hope just burned and I was already in more than enough pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> Author's Note: All right! I suppose we could call this the 'official' end of the Battle of Ostagar, huh? LOTS of things I added, simply because I chose to have Nuada conscious. (One of these days, I might just sit down and write out what skills/talents each character has.) All of it was just for fun to add to the wonderful mystery that is Flemeth. And showcasing how going into battle with limited or damaged armor will probably kill you. And I decided that, because of his templar training, Alistair has a lot of knowledge about magic. Archdemon shows up… because? Wardens hearing the song of the archdemon, and _how_ it sounds to them, comes DIRECTLY from the Last Flight novel.  
>  Also, it's only recently (as in while I was doing research for this) that I learned Arl Bryland's first name. I likely used Uncle Bryland in the past, thinking THAT was his first name, and that is an error. I'll… try to remember to correct that.
> 
> Not sure how much I can update during November as my focus is going to be on my NaNo project, so I hope you all have been enjoying the influx of chapters? Eheh? Oh, and Happy Halloweeen everyone!
> 
> Next Chapter – On the Run with Cleon


	30. Chapter 28) Under the Rain

Chapter 28) Under the Rain

Cleon POV

* * *

I heard Ashalle calling for me, but I stayed where I was. It had taken a lot of work to find the perfect tree to hide in, and I wasn't going to move. This spot shielded me from the rain, and unwanted eyes. Eyes filled with pity as they realized I just overheard what they'd spent years hiding.

She left. Mamae left Lyna and me. Gave birth and left. It shouldn't matter. I had no memories of her. Ashalle was my mamae. But she just… left. Didn't look back. And, as I hid tears behind my hands, and my face in my knees, I had to admit, at least to myself, that it hurt. A lot. A lot, a lot.

So what if she had reasons? So what if it was the 'right choice'? It didn't magically make the pain go away.

* * *

The rain pounded us as we ran. As we slipped and slid in the mud and scrambled over rocks in an effort to get away faster, I kept thinking of the battle. Of Shem-king Cailan, who died because he'd chosen to help soldiers. Of Duncan, who'd chosen to hold the line instead of saving himself. Of the soldiers who chose to buy time for their fellows to get away. These weren't actions I associated with shemlen. Shemlen were supposed to be stupid, greedy, selfish. Why weren't they acting like they were supposed to?! Why were they acting like Dalish? Nothing in the world made sense.

"Cleon!" Aiden called at some point. I stopped and slowly turned to face him. Both he and Elspeth were struggling up the rocks. We'd left the main road a while back. I'd automatically gone for the paths less traveled, and they just followed. "We need a breather." I almost demanded why, but I noticed his ashen complexion. Elspeth showed no signs of exhaustion, but she did hold on tightly to Aiden's arm as he helped her get to more level ground. "We need a destination."

"We're running for our lives," I growled. The soaking mess the rain made of all of us, though, seeped away any heat. "Why do we need one?"

"To make sure we don't run into worse." What was worse? "Not to mention it being folly to keep running in this storm. We can barely see our feet hit the ground, and the ground is just getting more treacherous." For someone who looked like he was about to pass out, Aiden sure spoke a lot of logical things.

"We wouldn't need to do this if that general of theirs did what he was supposed to." The words fell bitterly into the air. "But he just abandoned us."

"Tactically speaking, it probably saved a lot of soldier's lives," Elspeth noted absently. I felt like someone had just knocked the breath out of me. "There were far too many darkspawn for the charge to have had any real effect, aside from adding to the deaths."

"Are you sticking up for him?!" I snapped, livid. All those deaths… Those weren't justified!

"I'm so sorry that the world isn't black and white like you seem to want it, Cleon!" I stared in shock as she snapped back, trying to think if I'd ever heard her even raise her voice in our brief acquaintanceship. Coming up with nothing, I glanced to Aiden, only to find him also staring in blank shock. Well then. "You don't have good and evil all laid out for you! We're not children!"

And there went my temper. "Well, what abut Howe?! You have a justification for him?!"

"Do I? No! Is there one? Perhaps there is!" And she fired back with just as much heat. Wonderful. "Just because I don't know it doesn't mean it doesn't exist!"

"He's a monster and Loghain is a traitor to you all!"

"Loghain isn't a traitor if his action actually saves Fereldan!" I only vaguely noted Aiden trying to catch out attention. "But Howe's human! Don't twist him into something he's not! He's a human and a product of society!"

"So your society creates monsters?"

"Does yours create egotistical, overbearing children who pretend to be adults?" I was going to punch her! "You're quite the example if-!"

"SHUT UP!" Aiden roared, snatching both of us by the shoulder and pushing us down, curling us into his chest protectively. I almost demanded what was going on when I saw the arrow thud right where his shoulder met his neck. I reached over to the stupid sword Elspeth had at her waist and popped it out of its sheathe to see it glowing. Darkspawn. "Run!" He shoved us away and turned, catching an axe deep into his side.

"Aiden!" I yelled, surging forward to strike the darkspawn. I rip through its chest with ease and hunted around for the archer who'd shot first. Just when I caught sight of it, though, I saw an arrow fly through the rain and wind to strike it in the head. Blinking, I turned and saw Elspeth with her bow out, another arrow in hand, just in case. "Oh. You know how to use it." I'd thought she'd just been carrying it around for the intimidation factor.

"The lady of the household is expected to defend her home castle," she answered cooly. The arrow went back into her quiver. The bow, to her back. "Aiden, can you hear me?" Right, Aiden!

I knelt beside him, shaking his shoulder. He groaned and managed a wan smile, but he was pale from pain and going into shock. "We've got to get to shelter."

"I'll carry him." She did, too, easily getting his arm around her shoulder and half-carrying, half-dragging him after me as I loped ahead, looking for a good place to rest.

"Lady Elspeth, did you get shorter?" I heard Aiden mumble. I glanced back to check how dazed he was. "You're supposed to be taller than me, my lady."

"Aiden, I'm only taller than you when I'm wearing heels, like I did when we were on the run." Heels? What were those? "They aren't practical for mud and battles, so I'm in boots."

"I see, my lady." I was just… going to let them have their strange talk while I hunted. That was probably what was best for my sanity.

* * *

I was thankful my pack had made the trip successfully with me. It made starting a fire so much easier. As I urged it into life, I glanced around the cave I found, just to make sure it was a safe place to rest. Satisfied, I twisted and saw Elspeth almost had all of Aiden's dented armor off, revealing a sweat and blood stained shirt and pants. Aiden himself had passed out from exhaustion, pain, and blood loss shortly before I found the place. We really didn't have a lot of time to save him.

I checked him over silently, grimacing at the bite wound on his neck just a fingernail's distance from the arrow wound. Where did he get that? Shaking my head, I continued hunting for wounds. Bite wound, arrow, and where the ax had cleaved into him. The rest could wait.

"Do you have needle and thread?" I asked, glancing at Elspeth. Even though I was still angry at her, this wasn't the time.

"I do, but it's for simple cloth," she answered, carefully rummaging through her pack to produce a small case.

"That's fine." I popped it open and tried to thread one of the needles. My hands shook from tiredness, though, making it difficult. "It'll work."

"It will?"

"Yes." My annoyance was getting through. "Don't you learn basic first aid?"

"Oh, yes, I did, in between learning finances, logistics, history, languages, cultures, proper distribution of labor, plants and their uses, legislation and the justice system of all major powers of Thedas, how to take care of children, religious studies, and basic weapons work." Her dry voice bled sarcasm. "No, I didn't learn how to sew up a bloody wound! That's not our basic first aid, for starters, and I never expected to be close enough to a battle to have to use it. Fergus and Nuada took on the battle aspects, and I focused on keeping our lands running smoothly and diplomacy." She glared. "I'm so sorry that I'm only twenty and don't know everything yet!"

Ugh, this woman…! "Fen'harel's teeth, I think I preferred you quiet."

"Yeah, so does everyone else." I froze at the bitter yet resigned tone, and glanced to see deep hurt hiding behind fiery anger in her eyes. "Give me that." She snatched the needle from me, and threaded it easily. "So, tell me, oh great fountain of knowledge and wisdom, how do I stitch this wound? Whip stitch?"

"Yeah." Shaking my head, I waited until she started before examining Aiden's arrow wound a bit more closely. Noticing the abnormally large entry wound, I reached up to pull out the arrow.

"Don't do that." I glanced down and saw her staring at me. "Darkspawn weapons aren't known for their quality," she explained softly. "Rip it out, and there's a good chance you'll leave the head inside." I couldn't tell if that was a brilliant tactic or a stupid one. "Besides, these aren't hunting arrows. You'll do more damage ripping it out even if the head came with it. That's why they're barbed."

"So, I need to either push it through or cut it out." I debated and decided to go with cutting it out. There was a good possibility of it hitting bone, and there was no way I could break a bone to remove an arrow. "I thought you didn't know everything yet."

"I'm an archer. I wasn't allowed to touch the bow until I learned the history of its use." Well, splendid. "The Dalish try to hide their presence, right?"

"Most of the time." Groping for my small knife in my pack, I flipped it out and made an incision next to the wound before slowly digging into it to try and find the arrowhead. Thankfully, it was remarkably shallow. Still… "I'll need at least two more needles threaded."

"Why do you need two?"

"He has a bite wound."

"Disinfect the wounds first." I nearly snapped at her about how we didn't have any time to make up a concoction for that, but then saw she had some already out. "…I'm good with herbs."

"I honestly don't know whether to thank or punch you," I told her honestly. It got me a wry smile. "You'll want to go back around on that wound to make it more secure. How much do you have in bandages?"

"I have a lot." She nudged her pack closer to me. "Give me two seconds on those needles."

"It's going to take longer than that to get this out, I think." I couldn't get a good grip on the arrowhead and had to wiggle the shaft around to widen the wound more. Aiden made some minor, wordless protest to it, but it was ridiculously weak. "He's probably going to have a fever from all of this."

"I'll take your word for that." She calmly passed me one threaded needle as I finally extracted the damn arrow. Annoying little…! "Pay close attention to the wounds. Arrow injuries are notorious for infection."

As were bite wounds. "Yeah, I know what to do."

Silence fell as we continued to work, only interrupted with Aiden's weak moans of pain. He was completely out, and that didn't make me feel any better about the situation. Mythal, please protect him. He really deserves better.

Sometime while I was stitching the wounds, Elspeth finished and moved to the entrance of the cave to be sick. I decided acknowledging would be worse, so I kept quiet as she returned, sipping rainwater from her hands to get out the taste. I only said something when I felt something drop on my head. "What the-?"

"Use it to dry off," she whispered. Tying off the bite wound's stitches, I set down the two needles I used and grabbed the cloth clinging to my head. I hesitated, but did use the thing to towel off. She abstained from using one herself, choosing to instead tend to Aiden. "How bad are your injuries?"

"Fiiiiii…" I began, but then the adrenaline and worry started to fade and I felt everything burn and ache. I hated when that happened. "Never mind. Give me a moment. Everything hurts."

"Is it normal for that to happen?" I nearly gave a sarcastic retort, but saw her jaw clench in pain and just nodded. "I see."

"You don't get in a lot of fights, do you?"

"All the fights I've been in have been for self-defense, typically against would-be assassins." Ah… "Let me know if you need help."

I studied her a moment before sighing, grabbing her ankle, and roughly tugging her to the ground. She loosed a squeaky yelp as her butt hit the floor. "I think you need it first," I noted, roughly tugging off her boot to reveal bruises, long scrapes, and a couple of blistered burn patches. "You were running on this leg?"

"…Uncle Duncan once warned me that if darkspawn were around, and I couldn't fight them off, I needed to run or commit suicide," she whispered, awkwardly looking at the stone walls as I tended to her leg. "I didn't fancy dying, so I ran."

"Aggravating some wounds in the process." Granted, none of us could probably talk, but I didn't think Aiden had any wounds on his legs. I was certain I didn't. I relied on my legs too much in a fight to keep going on anything but a minor wound.

"Your back is bothering you, though." I glanced up and she shrugged. "You wince every time you twist, and your armor shows a pretty big gash."

"I think it's just bruised."

"Let me check anyway." I almost protested, but just sighed instead. She had the same stubborn look Lyna did, and I knew better than to fight that off.

Silence reigned again as we worked on removing our armor and bandaging each other up. For someone who'd only been on the field a few short moments, Elspeth had picked up a lot of wounds. I couldn't say I was much better, when you factored in bruises, but I'd been fighting. We ended up forgoing bandages for all but the worst wounds. Aiden would need them more, and we had a very limited supply.

"Why did you grab the portraits?" I asked once we were done with bandaging. I rummaged through my pack for a fresh shirt and pulled it on, leaving my armor off to enjoy the blessed sense of weightlessness. My old shirt I added as fuel to the fire. There was no way to clean those stains out.

"I…" She hesitated in answering, though I did notice she had little qualms changing her own shirt in front of me. Then again, she had a twin brother. It probably wasn't as big of a deal to her. "I'm afraid of forgetting what everyone looked like." …Ah… "I also didn't want the darkspawn to destroy Cailan's drawings, so I just… I just grabbed them without thinking."

"No, I can understand that." I reached into my pack and pulled out the portrait of my parents. "See?"

She slid a little closer, and a small smile cracked onto her face. "These your parents?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Well, the man looks almost exactly like you." Huh? "At least, he does when you don't have the scowl on your face."

"Haha, very funny." Resisting the urge to scowl and prove her point, I returned the portrait back to my pack and headed to the entrance of the cave, to make sure nothing else was trying to take refuge in the cave. I leaned against the wall as I stared out in the distance, absently fiddling with my necklace and bracelet, remembering the Clan and taking comfort from the memories. My thoughts slowly trailed into remembering the songs we'd sing around the campfire, and one song in particular waved through my head. Achingly beautiful, warming my spirit, though I struggled to remember where, in fact, I'd heard it. It was ancient and nostalgic and…

And my cheek exploded in pain as something slammed into it. Staggering to get my footing back, I looked up to see Elspeth at my side, one hand curled into a fist. "You wouldn't answer my calls," she explained. This did not explain how I had blood in my mouth! "When you started swaying close to the edge, I decided more extreme measures were necessary." I was bleeding! How hard did she hit me?! "Though I must admit, it felt rather nice to punch you. I've been wanting for a while." I glared at her, but she was looking at something over my head. "Well, I never expected to witness two dragon fights." Oh, wait, what?

I turned to see what she was talking about and froze as I caught sight of one dragon. "I… I don't think that's a dragon fight, Elspeth?"

"Is that so? I admit only one looks like a High Dragon, but…"

"The other burns with Taint." I glanced back in time to see her pale. Yeah. Yeah. "That's the Archdemon." We were supposed to kill that?! Wardens were insane!

"Then what is the other dragon?" I had no idea, so I just shrugged and settled my feet. I spat out the blood pooled in my mouth as the two dragons fought. Clawing and screeching. Raining fire and splitting the sky with violet magic. They tore into each other, blood flying and wings tearing. Eventually, the Archdemon's side exploded in a mess of blood and fire as the other dragon tore into it with its teeth, breathing fire to char the inside. The Archdemon roared in pain and it echoed painfully in my head, through my body. It took to the skies, hiding in the clouds. The other dragon watched and waited for a short while before turning for the wilds.

When the dragon was enveloped in a golden light and became nothing but a dot in the distance, I gaped. "Asha'bellanar," I breathed, recognizing her signature shapeshifting abilities. "Why would she fight the Archdemon?"

"Well, she'd probably die in the Blight too," Elspeth answered with a small shrug. On the surface, she seemed unimpressed by what we just witnessed, but that was probably just her defaulting to stone again. "Even if she didn't, all her potential victims would." True. "Besides, Fereldan is her home. Maybe she's just sentimental about it."

"May… wait, hold on, how do you know if we're talking about the same person?"

"Asha'bellanar is the Dalish word for Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, right?" I nodded and she shrugged. "I read, and the legend is an important one in Highever. It explains how the Couslands received rule of Highever when it was merely a Bannorn."

Ri… wait, what? No. No, wasn't going to ask about that. "So, what did you mean by 'two' dragon fights?"

"There was an attack at the Ten-Year-Gathering eight years ago." Like I had a clue what that was. "It was a big scandal for the Chantry. One of their highest ranked mothers and the Knight-Commander himself collaborated with a group of blood mage apostates to assassinate the Divine." As I gaped at that colorful sentence, Elspeth went back inside to check on Aiden. He was sleeping fitfully, sadly. Was it the archdemon's song? "It was foiled by the Hero of Orlais, a girl named Cassandra Pentaghast, with help from the mage Regaylan and others of the Circle." Ah. "It was supposed to be the last social function my family attended before finally returning home to Highever, but we ended up staying a bit longer for the ceremony acknowledging their efforts."

"I see." I sighed and stooped by the fire to make sure it was still going. "So, where do we go from here?" There was only silence. "I don't know shemlen cities."

"Well, there is Lothering." I glanced at her, but she continued tending to Aiden without noticing. "It's on a crossroads. We can go to Eamon in Redcliffe or Uncle Leonas in the South Reaches from there."

"All right." It was, at least, a destination for now. We'd just take this one step at a time. "Go to sleep. I'll take first watch."

"All right. May it be uneventful."

"Pleasant dreams."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I have entirely too much fun confusing and breaking Cleon sometimes. I really do. Reason why Elspeth isn't a POV character, so that I can have fun with her switching from stoicism and her surprisingly vicious temper. Not as much fun if you're in her head. The 10-year gathering mentioned is actually the setting for Dawn of the Seeker. (If you want a sort of strength chart for the current party: Aiden (when he's not holding back) Nuada Alistair Elspeth Cleon Layla)
> 
> This will probably be the last chapter before Inquisition comes out (though hey, I might surprise myself!)
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Alistair


	31. Interlude - Abandoned Child

Interlude – Abandoned Child

* * *

He wakes slowly. The smell of animals in the distance reminds him of the kennels he used to sleep in while staying with the Arl, but the silence is more in line with the templar quarters in the Chantry. He's not sure if he wants to be at either, though. He had always hated living in the Chantry, and the kennels would be he is stuck in Redcliffe with the servants who scoff and look down on him.

As he opens his eyes, though, he sees a plain ceiling that's out of place of anywhere he's actually been. He blinks owlishly, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to process what's going on. Right, he is a Warden, now. Six months recruit, and he's still convinced its all just some marvelous dream. Why else would someone like him be welcomed? But where is he now? A Warden garrison? He's supposed to be at Ostagar.

That's when he remembers. The Tower. The fighting. Layla collapsing from a stomach wound. Bantering with Nuada as they faced death in the face. Arrows thudding into him. He shouldn't be alive. How is he alive? Wait, is he alive?

Well, the massive amount of pain flooding him said, 'YES, YOU IDIOT!'

A door nearby opens and he pushes himself up slightly to see who it is, fur-lined blankets shifting as he moves. Before he has time to question the blankets, or the coarse but clean clothes he is wearing, he sees Nuada walk into wherever they were. "So, who all did we kill for their stuff?" he jokes, mostly to see a reaction.

Nuada's reaction, though, is surprising, and shouts volumes. Wide eyes of shock, pale face of someone dreading something, stiff movements of someone injured. But it all disappears quickly under a charmingly warm smile, with eyes clearly filled with relief. At this point, he's convinced the Veil could implode and kill thousands of people and Nuada would still be able to smile through it. After all, it's what he would try, and they seem strangely similar in their coping methods. "You'd be surprised the bonuses of killing darkspawn," Nuada returns, keeping with the banter. He watches his fellow Warden step to a mass of blankets next to him. It takes a second to realize Layla is cocooned within it, and Nuada is checking for her pulse. "More seriously, I'm glad you're awake. You've been out for two days."

Two days? "I guess I really needed my beauty sleep." It gets the result he wants, laughter, but there's an edge of hysteria to it, and he wonders what happened. "How did we get here? Weren't we in the Tower of Ishal?" He glances around for hints of where they are again, but there's really nothing except in a house.

"Oh, we flew." He stares at Nuada's nonchalant words. "It was great. Exhilarating. You missed it being half-conscious." He struggles to try and think if Nuada is lying, and comes across a half-remembered dream of brutal winds, of Nuada's pleading voice, of a deliriously familiar song, of weightlessness. But that is just a dream, right? "Then a kindly old lady and her daughter gave us all shelter and patched you two up." Okay, where in Thedas are they? "Nothing to really worry about. Don't mind it."

"If you say so." Don't mind anything. That's what he has always been told, so he goes to his old habits of listening and obeying. Because it isn't as if he'd ever amount of anything. Everyone had been quite clear on that, growing up. "Hey, Nuada?"

"Hmm?"

"Where are the others?" Silence falls, and it is by no means comforting. He watches Nuada's smile falter and shrink, there only by strength of will and tensing shoulders. "I mean; here's you and there's Layla. But what about Cleon or Aiden?" He can't really imagine either leaving them alone, especially Layla. "Or your sister, Elspeth?" The twins are close, and if he's honest, he would like to talk to her again and not make a fool of himself again. Not that there is much chance of that happening, but still… "Duncan?" Duncan never leaves his Wardens alone for long when injured. "Tarimel? Richu? Ulster?" Surely, Nuada would know them by now. They were always so friendly and welcoming. But Nuada says nothing, and he tries to think of anyone else who should be here.

But everything freezes and shatters when Nuada opens his mouth to answer him at last. "I'm sorry." The words hit him like fists. He should be used to pain. He was a templar recruit disliked for his impious demeanor. He is the bastard hidden away for being too inconvenient. But still, it hurts. It hurts a lot.

"How…?" But Nuada doesn't give him an answer. Just sit down next to him and pulls him into a one-armed hug. He tenses at the gesture, still unfamiliar with friendly touches like hugs and claps on the back. Too used to being ignored, to being beaten because he didn't do something right. Six months and humor can only change so much. "So, is everyone…?" Nuada still doesn't answer, but the silence holds all the answers. "Duncan?" Duncan, the only person he could ever call a 'father'. Duncan, who saw him as unhappy, and gave him a family. A family all dead. Gone. …Family… "The King?" There is still no answer and he starts to sob as he realizes the half-brother he had always wanted to talk with more is gone too. Gone with the rest of his family. "Why? Why did this happen?"

He doesn't know who took his family from him. Darkspawn or humans. And he doesn't really care. Whoever, and whatever, it was, he'll never forgive them. He can't forgive them.

Everything just hurts when you have something you never realized you longed for, and then had it stolen while you were looking away.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes – So, this is Alistair's interlude, and here I wanted to focus on something very clear. Why he never is able to forgive Loghain, and why he'll throw a tantrum and leave if you spare Loghain, as a lot of people write it off as simple childishness. And, to be fair, it is horribly selfish (I can like a character and admit he has flaws, thank you very much, and this is a REALLY big one). But I can't exactly call it childish, as I've seen plenty of adults react the same way. Loghain's action, whether intended or not, resulted in the deaths of the Wardens. Some of the only people Alistair has ever been able to identify as family (seriously, look at his banter about his childhood and get past the jokes. It's horribly abusive). This is why Alistair stays with you no matter what unless you spare Loghain. Because then you're family betraying family, and that's enough to make anyone selfish. (There are other reasons for his bad reaction, at least I think so, but they aren't really highlighted here). 
> 
> Next Chapter – Aftermath with Layla


	32. Chapter 29) Aftermath

**Chapter 29) Aftermath**

_Layla POV_

* * *

_There were… so many herbs. My eyes glazed over as I looked at all the names. Beside me, Anders was doodling, already accepting total distraction._

_"I definitely lost you two. Neither of you reacted to my story of how when I was a child, we got all the templars drunk." Irving smiled mischievously as Anders and I exchanged sheepish looks. "Come, we still have an hour left of the lesson," he told us. We both groaned. "I knew you'd love it."_

_"Why do we have to learn this?" Anders asked petulantly. "We have magic."_

_"Not all wounds can be healed with magic. Magic is not as all powerful as people like to think." His eyes were sad. "I want you two prepared. I just have a feeling you'll need it."_

_"And if we don't?"_

_"Well, Anders, considering how often you like to run away, I dare say you will." Irving's smile softened the rebuke. "Come on. Let's begin again."_

* * *

I woke to a strange ceiling and the smell of elfroot and lavender. Fur-lined blankets covered me, and a soft pillow supported my cotton filled head. I tried to remember everything that had happened, still half lost in a dream about lessons. Slowly, though, I put the pieces together and, when I did, I gasped and struggled to push myself up. I was alive? How was I alive? Where were the others?

"I see the sleeping beauty is awake at last." I slowly turned to see Nuada smiling down on me. He had two new scars on his face, but he seemed well. "You were out a day longer than Alistair," he told me before straightening and smirking at someone. "Morrigan, you were wrong!"

"Hush, or I'll turn you into a newt." I could only stare and blink as I saw Morrigan from the Wilds scowl as she came up beside Nuada. What was she doing here? "Tis rude to boast," she grumbled. Nuada laughed outright. "You are infuriating."

"I get that a lot." He gently touched my shoulder. "I'll head outside to tell Alistair. Morrigan will help you change clothes. You still have some injuries." I nodded and watched him exit the… house? I looked around and saw it only had one floor. A roaring fire provided heat, and a pot simmered over it. In the corner were books stacked haphazardly into shelves, while pillows and blankets were scattered all over the floor. Where was I?

"Mother shall be so pleased to see your eyes finally open." I returned my attention back to Morrigan, and she was carefully pulling out my robes from a pile of clothes close by. They had been washed, and repaired. "As Nuada said, you were out for some time."

"Where am I?" I finally asked, voice raspy. My throat throbbed in protest and I coughed a little. A cup of water appeared in front of my face and I took it to sip slowly. It was wonderfully cold.

"You are in the Wilds, again." This made sense. "I am Morrigan, lest you've forgotten, and I only just rebandaged your wounds. Had I known you would wake, I would have waited."

"Thank you." She seemed startled. "Truly, I thank you."

"Tis… little trouble." Perhaps in embarrassment, she tugged me up. I glanced down and studied the bandages wrapped around me. I frowned as I noticed some inconsistencies with the wounds I remembered getting. The one in my stomach _should_ still be there. "Hold your arms above your head." I did as she ordered and she tugged my robes on in a single jerk. "How does your memory fare? Do you remember Mother's rescue?"

"She rescued us?"

"I shall take that as a 'no'. A shame only Nuada was conscious for it. It was glorious." Was it? "Twas a close call for you and Alistair. Yet, you faired better than the others."

"What do you mean?" I asked as I shifted, tugging the robes to fit properly. She ignored me for a moment to pick up my armor. "Please, tell me. What happened?"

"The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field instead. The darkspawn won your battle." …Wha…? "Those who were abandoned were massacred. Nuada takes the news with grace. Alistair… well, he is another matter."

"Then the other Wardens… and the soldiers…?" I could not finish the sentence, even as she slipped the leather chest guard over my head. "They are…?"

"All dead," she responded bluntly, slowly buckling me into the armor. "Alistair wavers between denial and grief ever since Mother confirmed Nuada's words."

"There are truly no survivors?" What about…?

"All stragglers. Mother, however, seems delighted by the fact the elves called Cleon and Aiden were not found anywhere near the field." H-huh? "Neither was this woman named Elspeth." Then they could be alive? I could not decide if not knowing was a good thing or a bad. "There are, however, bodies everywhere in that valley. Darkspawn swam them, feeding, I think." They _fed_ on the dead? "They also hunt for the few still breathing and drag them back down beneath the ground. I cannot say why, though I note the majority of them seem to be female." That made little sense. "You are frowning. Pray tell, why?"

"I…" What should I say? "I am startled by how little scarring I have." I still wondered _where_ some of my wounds went. I knew the limitations of healing magic. "Is there a spell you two know or an herbal concoction? I would love to learn."

"Tis because Nuada is an idiot." Huh? "Not as bad as Alistair. Nuada, at least, is tolerable in it." Uh… "There are too many buckles on this contraption!"

"I agree…" I mumbled. My hand brushed over it, though, and I felt the marks where it had protected me from worse wounds. I would… if I were to survive, I would have to wear better armor. I wasn't… I wasn't in the Tower, anymore. Commander Duncan was dead. Everyone was… Nuada and Alistair were all that was left. I wanted to hope on others, I truly did, but… but I was so afraid. Why? Why couldn't I be in the Tower? I wanted to be home with Irving and… oh, Wynne was probably dead too. Everyone _else_ was!

I wanted to cry, but I was too weak. That hurt most of all.

* * *

When I was finally dressed, Morrigan shooed me outside. Hesitantly, I stepped out, blinking rapidly at the harsh sunlight and clinging to the amulet Irving gave me as if it were a lifeline. As my vision cleared, I saw Alistair and Nuada chatting by the lake nearby. Though both had their weapons on hand, only Nuada wore armor. I wondered if Alistair's had been too badly damaged to fix.

"Layla!" Alistair breathed, instantly breaking off his conversation to snatch me in a crushing hug. After a moment of hesitating, I returned it, clinging to his back. It was just so _reassuring_ to be held. "You're alive. I was worried."

"You were worried, and here I am having to be the one to watch you _both_ just sleep," Nuada teased, smiling as he joined us. "I swear Morrigan had me doing the chores she hated."

"Yeah, well, none of this seems real quite yet. By all rights, we should be dead." I was glad to know I was not the only one confused about everything. "And I have way less wounds than I know I took." That happened to me too! "Still confused about that."

"A witch did it." Despite Nuada's humor, his expression turned serious as he looked at me. "Did Morrigan tell you what happened?"

"…Yes, she did…" I whispered, hiding a bit more behind Alistair as sorrow washed through me. "Everyone is dead, huh?"

"Well, Cleon and Aiden might not be, along with some others," Alistar commented with false cheer. I wanted to ask if he really believed it or not. "I want to know why Teyrn Loghain would… I mean…"

"A lot of things could've happened," Nuada noted absently. He studied the sky, avoiding the glares we leveled at him. "The beacon could've been lit too late. The plan could've gone wrong. We weren't _there_. What do we know about what happened? He never was one to believe the tales of the Wardens. He probably assumes the Blight is simply another army he can maneuver, so the people there were just more good soldiers left to die for 'the good of the kingdom'."

"You can't be justifying-!" Alistair began with a low, angry growl and burning eyes. He let go of me to step towards Nuada. "You simply _can't_ be-!"

Nuada, however, cut him off neatly. "Justifications don't make things right. You can be _justified_ in something, and still be wrong." He brought his gaze down to Alistair, and _smiled_. "As a Warden, Alistair, you should know better than anyone about how things are rarely black and white. If not, learn quickly. I'd hate for such a wonderful fellow to go completely insane."

"Well, what do _you_ think?" I demanded as Alistair flinched and looked away. "Instead of lecturing and giving possibilities, why not give an opinion?"

"I don't think it matters." The words were light, cheerful even, and I had a nearly overwhelming urge to _slap_ him, if only to see if he would _stop smiling_. "I'm not the one being rude." I felt my expression blank in confusion and he pointed to the old woman standing off to the side, watching us with a small smile. Just as before, deep set fear dripped down my spine. "Layla Amell, meet my lady, Flemeth," he introduced, his smile growing as I stared. Flemeth… I knew that name. It was a tale. Yet… Yet…! "You have just as good of a reaction as Alistair."

"Maker, I can't tell if you like or hate me," Alistair muttered. I was feeling the same. "Really, I can't."

"If I hated you, you would not be breathing." …I should be grateful he didn't say that with a smile, I suppose. "Does that help?"

"I… moving on."

"So, are you willing to speak to me as if I am actually here?" Flemeth laughed, smiling. I shuddered at it, and the calculative gleam in her eyes. "But must you have given them that name, my little lordling?" I was so confused.

"I could have said Asha'bellanar or an old hag who talks to much," Nuada deadpanned. I nearly gasped at how rude he was, but Flemeth only laughed. "I thought the name would have a fun reaction."

"Too true. I certainly enjoyed it." She crossed her arms and studied us three. "Before you ask, I saved you because you were the three Wardens I could reach." Why not the others? Why _us_ three? "And other reasons I will not divulge." What? Why? "Regardless, it has always been the duty of Wardens to unite the lands against the Blight, or did that change while I wasn't looking?"

"I fail to see how we can do that," I mumbled, unable to keep the thought in check. "What can we do? We…" We could even light a beacon properly, apparently.

"I see a warrior well versed in politics, a mage with more power than she knows, and a warrior who sees more than he thinks. Garahel was simply a skilled and charismatic elf." I… "Your task is simply different, with people thinking they know more than you do about the darkspawn. Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. I know this too well."

"We still have to deal with the fact there are only three of us," Alistair pointed out glumly. "No Warden has ever defeated an Archdemon without half a dozen nations backing them up, and we don't even have the treaties."

"About that…" What? Did she magically steal the treaties? "I went to hunt for them, only to find them gone," she explained. "The last trace I could find went to a chest hidden in what I assumed was little Cailan's tent, spelled to keep interlopers out. They were removed."

"Then the treaties must be with someone who could open it?" Alistair sounded hesitant. "But who…?"

"If it's the chest I'm thinking, then that thing could only be opened by Cailan, Anora, Fergus, myself, and Elspeth," Nuada answered. His face was carefully blank behind the smile. "I'm here, Cailan is dead, and Anora is in Denerim."

"So, one of your siblings has it!" Alistair beamed suddenly, but Nuada simply shrugged. "You're allowed to be happy." Nuada snorted like Alistair had said something funny. "What?"

"I dare say it also increases your chances that another Warden is with her, seeing as she would have no way to _use_ such treaties without them," Flemeth whispered with a small smile. "Perhaps that is where your Cleon and Aiden went." I… _hoped_ that was the case. It was easier to pick it up, now. "So, who else can you think of?"

"Um…" Alistair glanced briefly at Nuada and me before continuing, "Well, I know the Wardens of Orlais had been called…"

"They won't be here," Nuada immediately shot down. Alistair gave him a wounded look and Nuada grimaced. "Knowing Uncle Loghain, he's got the border completely shut down to 'prevent an invasion' or something."

"Maker, what did Orlais do to him?" I mumbled, not really expecting anything. I knew of the Rebellion, mostly from what Aiden said, but…

"They invaded his home, taxed the citizens to the point they had to choose between paying and starving, raped his mother in front of him when his father chose to eat, kidnapped and killed his mabari, among the other war crimes he witnessed during the Rebellion." I… was going to be sick. "Again, even though something is justifiable and understandable doesn't make it right. Regardless, unless the Wardens storm the border, they aren't going to come."

"So, there's Arl Eamon," Alistair gasped, gesturing wildly. "He should still have his knights!" I remembered that. "There's no way he'd stand with Loghain after this!"

"You have a point there." Alistair seemed a little startled by the praise. "We just have to convince him that siding with us is in the best interest of Fereldan, instead of being neutral."

"That won't be hard, though, right?"

"It shouldn't be. If it becomes so, I'll just blackmail him."

"…Blackmail?"

"I know it's terribly Orlesian of me, but if it gets the job done… oh, don't make that face!" Alistair looked as if he were scowling and pouting at once. "It's not the first or even tenth option!"

"It sounds like you're all set," Flemeth chuckled. Her smile had a slightly softer edge to it now, and I was not sure it was reassuring or terrifying. "Track down your missing friends, recruit the armies?"

"It seems so," I whispered. I did not feel ready at all. At this point, I truly would be happy with just staying alive. "Would you, perhaps, have anything else that could help us?" I would welcome the spell she used to save us.

Her smile, however, widened and I felt like a rabbit caught in a trap. "As a matter of fact, I do believe I have one thing I can offer."

"Mother, dear, the stew is bubbling." I squeaked and ducked behind Alistair as Morrigan suddenly walked up. I had forgotten about her! "Shall we have three guests for the eve or none?" The look she gave us implied she hoped it would be the latter.

"The Wardens are leaving shortly, girl," Flemeth informed her. Morrigan smirked slightly. "And you will be joining them."

"Such a shaaa… what?!" Morrigan's reaction mirrored all three of ours. Even Nuada had dropped his smile for it.

"You heard me, girl!" Flemeth laughed, and I exchanged awkward looks with the two boys. None of us knew what to make of this.

"Have I no say in this?!" Did _we_?

"You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance." Uh… "I suppose the Wardens can consider this repayment for saving their lives."

"You cannot change the terms of the contract afterwards, my lady," Nuada told her. His smile was back in place. "Your price has already been paid." Huh?

"Mmm, true," Flemeth agreed. I tugged Alistair's sleeve in question, but his shrug told me he had no answers. "Still, it can't hurt to have more immediate allies."

"Are you sure?" Alistair asked slowly. At Flemeth's droll look, he quickly added, "not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but outside of the Wilds, she's an apostate. Apostates tend to be hunted."

"By incompetent fools, yes." Flemeth's smile grew. "Still, if you did not wisht he help from illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you in the Tower?"

"You… have a point." That still did not address his concern, though!

"We'll just say she's a Warden if someone asks," Nuada sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, before fixing his long ponytail. "It's not like anyone can tell at a glance except darkspawn and another Warden."

"But this isn't how I wanted to leave!" Morrigan protested, still staring at her mother. "I'm not even ready!"

"You must be ready," Flemeth told her softly. "They must unite Fereldan against the darkspawn." I had a feeling there was something else going on, but I could not place my finger on what. "They need you. Otherwise, they will perish in the Blight." That was comforting.

"I…" Morrigan sighed. "I understand." She sounded so thrilled.

"Good." Flemeth turned her attention to us. "And as for you, I hope you understand. I give you that which I value above all in this world, because you _must_ succeed." Well, when she put it like that, how could we refuse?

"We are so being set up for something," Alistair muttered. I was confused by the statement. "But we are boxed in. Great."

"We'll do our best to keep her safe, my lady," Nuada told Flemeth. He smiled a little. "We can make no promises otherwise."

"Just… let me get my things," Morrigan requested, sounding a little put out. "You should all get your wounds checked one more time as well." That was likely a good idea. "Inside for all of us, then. Come on." She was… quite bossy. That was a tactful way to put it.

* * *

After Flemeth changed our bandages, each in separate areas for privacy, and giving us careful instructions of how to tend to the lingering injuries, we found ourselves outside again. Morrigan was waiting for us with a small pack, looking a little uncomfortable about all of this.

"I am at your disposal, Wardens," she mumbled, ducking her head slightly. "I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. Tis not far, and you will find much you need there."

"You're talking about Lothering, aren't you?" Nuada asked. She nodded and he smiled. "That's a good choice. We have a wealth of options to go from there."

"Plus, we're more likely to find them in a crossroads town," Alistair agreed. I wondered if he deliberately kept the _them_ vague. "That works."

"Then I trust you shall not want be to be your silent guide?" Morrigan dryly commented. "How marvelous."

"I have a sneaky suspicion you'll say what's on your mind anyway."

"Very true!" Flemeth laughed, stepping out to see us off. "She has a sharp tongue."

"It can't be worse than Elspeth," Nuada commented. I felt my expression go blank as I tried to imagine Elspeth being biting. It was quite difficult. "So, please, we welcome the speaking of minds."

"Wonderful," Morrigan deadpanned before turning to her mother. "Dear, sweet mother, you are so kind to simply cast me out like this. How fondly I shall remember this moment." Ahah… ha… this was going to be horribly awkward for a long while, wasn't it?

"Well, if you want something done, do it yourself or hear about it for a decade or two afterwards," Flemeth replied. I wondered why she was not coming with us, in that case.

"Yes, yes." Morrigan was still glowering. "Farewell, Mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned-down hut." That would be tragic.

Flemeth scoffed at the notion, however. "Tis far more likely you will return to see the entire area, including this hut, swallowed up by the Blight."

"I…" Morrigan was instantly contrite. "All I meant was…" Wait, was she trying to tell her Mother to take care of herself? That was such a roundabout way to go about it!

Still, Flemeth seemed to understand as her face and voice softened. "Yes, I know. Do try to have fun, dear." She turned to the rest of us. "And good luck to you. I shall hope for your success." For some reason, those words held more weight than I thought they should. "Farewell."

Alistair and Nuada bowed to her. I curtseyed. However, as I tried to walk past, she suddenly grabbed me by the arm. "What is it?" I asked, subtly trying to escape. It did not work. Her grip was like a vice.

"What is it that you see, when you look at me?" she whispered to me. I merely stared at her, uncertain as to what she was saying. "You're an Amell. Eagle's power. Tell me what your magic screams when you look at me."

I… "How do I do this?" Perhaps if I made her explain, I could get away? "I do not know a spell that does it."

"You're too trapped in Circle ways, when your magic is so much _more_." She smiled and I found no comfort in it. "Close your eyes and open your senses. What does it say?" I hesitated, but disobeying her might not be good. So, I closed my eyes and felt for the magic. I opened my mouth to speak words to call to it, but snapped it shut when I heard her 'tch'. "No incantations. You're no longer a child. Goodness, do all Circle mages teach incantations? No wonder their spells take too long to cast. Make it obey you through sheer force of will. Ask it silently and accept no refusal. What do you sense?"

Fear motivated me to do _exactly_ what she said, as best as I could. It was startling easy, and unease pooled in my stomach. "There are… wisps, clinging to your spirit. I know not what. I have not seen anything like them before?" It reminded me of the moon, a gentle glow that none could ignore. "There is… justice? I think it is justice, but perhaps it is vengeance instead. Regardless, it does not care what is destroyed, so long as what is lost is restored or replaced?" I opened my eyes and stared at her. For a second, I saw an young noblewoman with tears streaming down her face, but when I blinked, Flemeth was the same as before. "I…"

"That's the elf blood pulsing through you, to see so much." …Wha…? "Hmm? Taken before you could learn that? My, my. Maybe you should think of why your father was so willing to kill _you_ , when none of your siblings inspired such wrath." Uh… "Oh, look, they're waiting for you. Go on, Layla. Forget the teachings of the Circle. They're good for guiding, but you let it chain instead." I wanted to go home. "Have fun." She pushed me to the others, and I hurried to catch up. Alistair instantly wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders as we followed Nuada and Morrigan into the Wilds.

We had to walk through the woods _again_? Maker, I hated you.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Whoo! Morrigan joins! (God, I squealed when she showed up in Inquisition) So… Inquisition players might know what I'm referring to here. To those that don't, play the game. As for the elf blooded stuff… I'll talk more about that later, probably. It's just something I thought would be fun. (I'm going to try and get into the swing of writing again, now that I've done my first playthrough. Still be slow going as I'm still playing to get ideas for the Inquisition novelization)
> 
> Next Chapter – On the run with Aiden


	33. Chapter 30) Refugees

**Chapter 30) Refugees**

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"Aiden, let's get this!" Shianni cooed, picking up a necklace with glass gems. "Won't Aunt Adaia love it?"_

_"We're here for food," I scolded, making her put it back. I took her hand to drag her from the stall, keeping an eye on guards. They had a habit of automatically assuming elves were shoplifting. And very rarely did an elf escape a guard without feelings of humiliation, confusion, and anger. If they were lucky, though, that was all it was. "Mother would prefer eating to something fake."_

_"Aw… meanie." Still, she giggled and pressed against my side. "Hey, where's Soris?"_

_"At the food stall where I left him because you disappeared and I had to find you." Her laugh had no signs of guilt. Typical. "Don't let go for the rest of the time we're out."_

_"Yeah, yeah."_

* * *

I grimaced as I turned wrong and my healing, scarring, wounds keened bitterly. I subtly checked each one, to make sure I hadn't pulled the stitches out, or that something hadn't given. Luckily, I came across were crusted scabs and stiff thread.

"We can probably take those out soon." I carefully turned to face Cleon, water rippling around me. He was facing away, squeezing the water out of his hair. I winced at the large, red and purple bruise covering his upper back. "The stitches, I mean." Cleon ducked under the water and surfaced easily. I just sighed. While I was grateful to Ser Maron for showing us this small, hidden lake just outside the town borders, it was incredibly peculiar to take a bath _outside_. "What?"

"It's nothing," I dismissed. This was just something I'd have to get used to. "Just making sure I didn't injure myself."

"You better have not. Had a heart attack at how high your fever spiked." I'd have to take his word for it. I had absolutely no memory of the day after Ostagar fell. Just dreams of blood and screams and vaguely reassuring voices being my only link to sanity. "But I'll remove the stitches in a few days."

"That works." That was going to be painful, wasn't it? Great...

"Are you two still here?" I yelped and immediately ducked down into the water as Lady Elspeth appeared on the edge of the closest shore, pushing aside bits of elfroot and spindleweed that helped hide the lake from curious walkers. "Is everything all right?" she asked, head tilted slightly in what I guessed was confusion.

"I-it's nothing, my lady," I mumbled, sinking so the water could cool my face. The travel to Lothering had taught me that _apparently_ I was the only one of us three with any sense of modesty. "H-how is your leg?" Lady Elspeth's injures had given her a slight limp, one I feared might be permanent.

"I can walk." That didn't exactly answer my question. "Cleon, why is he acting so strangely?"

"I have _no_ idea," Cleon replied with a shrug. He waded over to her and pulled himself out without a care. "Pass me that cloth, will you?" She tossed it over without a word, still studying me. "Maybe he's just weird." Hey!

"Perhaps that is so." HEY!

I sighed, resisting the urge to shake my head as the two continued chatting about my supposed strangeness. I wasn't sure what was worse. Their agreement or their _arguing_. …Well, maybe the latter because it tended to be the same thing. Cleon refused to believe Loghain had done anything but betray and was a villain and evil, while Elspeth maintained an obsessive need to… well, not quite _defend_ the action, but to paint it more as a shade of grey. Personally, I was tempted to clock them both over the head if it happened agaaaaa WHAT WAS I THINKING?! I couldn't hit either of them!

"Aiden?" I yelped when I saw Lady Elspeth's face close to my own. "I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning back slightly to give me space. I tried to process how she'd gotten so close, and determined fairly quickly that she'd just walked, and I'd just been too far in thought to hear the splashes. You weren't saying anything."

"I beg your pardon, my lady," I mumbled awkwardly, turning away from her to hide. "I was lost in thought."

"I see."

"What were you saying, if I may ask?"

"We need to shop for supplies." We were masquerading as refugees, but even refugees needed to actually move on. Especially in a town obviously at its breaking point. "So… um…" I glanced up in time to see her duck her head and subtly shift her weight. "I will need help?" Right, because as Cleon and I had discovered, Lady Elspeth, for all of her stoneness and temper, was horribly, _horribly_ shy when it came to talking to strangers.

"Here, I'll come with," Cleon offered. He was half-dressed already. "Just be prepared for my questions."

"I've gotten used to them." Indeed. Cleon seemed to like making Elspeth answer his questions about things, prompting her for observations. I wasn't sure if that was his way of helping her shyness or if he was just messing with her. Or both. "Aiden, will you be fine?"

"Yes, milady," I answered after a moment of thought. "I think I will soak a little longer for my muscles." And have some blissful quiet time.

"Take care to not stay too long, lethalin," Cleon warned. He was grinning as he slipped on his clothes. "I'm sure you don't want us to fish you out."

"Very funny. Get going."

"Yeah, yeah. Off we go."

* * *

After finishing my bath, and carefully dressing to not aggravate the healing wounds, I wandered into the Lothering Market, passing by the cage with the strange man within. Everyone gave him a wide berth, and it wasn't hard to see why. Bronze skin, white hair in tight braids, hard purple eyes, and towering over people even as he sat. Part of me wanted to investigate, but I decided finding my companions was far more important. If, of course, I could. The place was packed with other refugees, locals who were preparing to flee, and merchants taking advantage of the chaos to raise prices ridiculously high.

"Oh, my pardon!" someone gasped as they crashed into me. Her basket fell and apples spilled out of it. "Ah…!" We both dropped down to catch the rolling fruit, and ended up clonking our heads together. "Ack!"

"I am so sorry!" I yelped, rubbing at my head as I hastily placed my gathered apples in the basket. "Truly, I…"

"No, I am the one who didn't watch where she was going!" I blinked slowly as I realized the woman had a very distinct Orlesian accent. The second shock was that she was dressed like a Chantry sister. "Oh, you're new around here." She smiled, pushing her short red hair out of her blue eyes. "My name is Leliana. I'm a lay sister here."

"Aiden Tabris, miss." I handed her the last of the apples. "How is your head?"

"Just fine. I might have a knot for a few days, though!" Thankfully, she took it in good humor as she picked up the basket and stood up. She held out a hand to help me. "Are you one of the refugees?"

"Ah, yes." Best way to say that. "I'm traveling with two others."

"Really? That must be exciting." It was exhausting, actually. "Are you okay on money? There are a few people looking for the bounties Teyrn Loghain set up." …What? "Did you not hear about them?"

"I haven't been able to hear much of anything, miss."

"Oh?" Her eyes sparkled as she tugged me a little closer, whispering in my ear. "There have been many rumors about how Teyrn Loghain and his soldiers miraculously survived. He, however, has been blaming the Wardens." You have got to be joking. "There are bounties for them. A human man with templar training, a Dalish elf, a city elf, and a human mage." Okay, that all sounded like… wait, why not one for Nuada? Blatant favoritism there, Loghain. "And it's quite high. Thirty gold sovereigns for the man, twenty for the others." That… made no sense. What was he thinking? "It's quite a bit of money."

"Do people believe him?" I asked casually, rocking back on my heels and glancing around. Hunting for anyone who made the connection between the 'city elf' and me.

"No, not really." She sighed, eyes sad as she clutched her basket a little tighter. "But that much money will buy quite a bit of food during a difficult time." Yeah, no kidding. "Ah! I'm going to be late delivering these!" She smiled, pushing through the crowd and waving goodbye over her shoulder. "It was nice talking to you."

"Pleasant day, miss!" I watched her disappear before sighing, rolling my shoulders absently. This just got bad to worse.

"There you are!" Cleon suddenly appeared at my side, frowning. That's it. I was getting lessons in how to not be snuck up on. I was tired of the heart attacks. "Been looking all over for you, lethalin," he complained. I resisted the urge to… do _something_ in retaliation for startling me. "Elspeth managed to snag some tents at a bargain, so we're going to clear out of the refugee area to make some room." Oh? That would be nice. The place was cramped, and becoming more so by the day. "Two shemlen are going to help us." He casually slung an arm around my shoulder. "This way!"

"Make sure they're actually helping us," I muttered. "There are bounties on us."

"Bounties?" Cleon's face blanked. "What are those?"

"They're… look, this isn't a good place to talk. I'll explain later."

"All right."

* * *

"And there we go!" Miss Diana declared as my tent finally decided to cooperate and stay up. "Not too bad." She slowly stretched, tossing her pale blonde braid over her shoulder. "And it didn't take forever!" She flashed a grin, warming her sparkling green eyes. "Bethany? How's it going?"

"We're finished here, Sis," Miss Bethany informed us. She had been helping Lady Elspeth with folding the new clothes bought with the tents. "Good timing, too. Mother wanted us to pass out blankets."

"As well as some smoked meat, since I got some excess from those bears."

"I still can't believe you hunted down that bear without help."

"Bethany, you know better than anyone I can take care of myself, and _why_." There was a hidden meaning there. I just knew it. "Still, enough scolding. You're younger, _and_ we're going to be late."

"Thank you very much," Lady Elspeth murmured to them, bowing to make her point clearer. "Truly, thank you."

"Just doing what we can to help out before everything is destroyed." Miss Diana said the words far too lightly. "You sure you're good to go here?"

"We're sure," Cleon confirmed, already setting up a fire pit to cook food for later. "So, please, help the others who actually need it."

"All right." Miss Diana grinned. "See you all later. Or not. Miss, let me know if someone tries to grab what they shouldn't, though. I know all about how guys think a short leather skirt means they can look _and_ touch." Considering she wore what seemed to be a cheaper version of Lady Elspeth's armor, this was slightly unsurprising. "Anyway, bye!" With the air of someone who did it a lot, Miss Diana deftly took Miss Bethany by the hand and dragged her off back towards town, skirting through the bushes and trees that surrounded our chosen campsite.

As soon as they were out of sight, Cleon announced, "they're mages." Both Lady Elspeth and I stared at him, but he just continued making the fire. "Pretty powerful, actually." He noticed us staring. "What? I have enough of the gift to know some things. Like mages and when something is a _really_ bad idea." Ah. "Anyway, not important. Just warning in case there's a little spell on any of the stuff." Uh… "Aiden, you mentioned something about bounties?"

"Bounties aren't uncommon in Fereldan," Lady Elspeth murmured, packing the new clothes into our fixed packs. She seemed entirely disinterested in the whole thing. "Cleon, tomorrow, we should try and get you replacement weapons."

"Hmm? Yeah, sure. Sounds good."

"My lady, I believe you would find it uncommon to be _traveling_ with two people with bounties on their heads." I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice, and felt horrible about.

"It wouldn't be the first time," she replied instantly. I was stuck wondering what was going on. "Still, I cannot think of why there would be one for Cleon."

"You can for Aiden?" Cleon demanded, instantly coming to my 'defense' as the fire roared to life.

"He did kill Vaughan." Ahaha… Maker, that would haunt me forever. "So, it _is_ possible." She set the packs to the side with a shrug. "But there is no habit of putting bounties on random Dalish. There's no money in trying to out hunt your people, and bounty hunters and mercenaries tend to care more about coin than cause."

"It's because we're Wardens," I finally explained, sighing heavily as I sat by the fire. Nearby were the bedrolls and pillows, so I set about unrolling them. "Loghain is blaming the Wardens for Ostagar." Cleon spat some Dalish curse that I couldn't translate. Lady Elspeth, however, simply sighed. "There are four bounties. An ex-templar, a mage, a Dalish, and a city elf."

"Not one for Nuada?" Cleon asked. I nodded, not surprised he'd jumped on that detail. "Convenient."

"I suppose so." I glanced at Lady Elspeth. "What do you think on it?"

"Honestly, I think it's less because of titles and more because he is personally fond of us, and overlooking how Nuada is a Warden now," Lady Elspeth answered easily, staring at the flames. "That is quite the oversight on his part. It's the people who are closest that can utterly destroy you." That… was strangely… something. I wasn't sure how to react to it.

"Oh, praise the Creators!" Cleon declared, flopping onto his back. Evidently, he didn't have any qualms about what she said. "You're _not_ praising him."

"I have never praised him!" Oh, Maker, really? "I simply am trying to explain why his actions might have made sense other than being 'evil' or whatever childish term you label it!"

"I think it's a healthy response to label things! Maybe you should try it!"

"What good will _that_ do? There's an entire country resting on our shoulders!"

"You keep trying to tell me to not be angry over it! Not everyone can lock up their emotions!"

"There's a time and a place for such things!"

"What's wrong with now?"

"Everything!"

"Oh, enough!" I finally yelled, annoyed. Both of them shut up instantly. "Now's not the time for _arguing_ either!" They had the grace to look sheepish. "I'm putting a ban on talking on this subject. Neither of you can bring it up without prompting. Got it?" They both nodded vigorously. "Good." Maybe I could get some peace and quite for three-

"I just don't get it," Cleon growled. I groaned and found a pillow to bury my face in and keep from screaming. "Your home fell. Your family is scattered or dead. Yet you won't be angry."

"Why is that surprising?" Lady Elspeth demanded. I peeked out and saw her head tilt to the side in confusion. "I've a duty."

"Duty above all else?"

"I'm a Cousland." And? "Of course that's how it is."

"That's not healthy for you."

"Why does that matter?"

"Intervening again," I grumbled, this time to avoid awkward conversations. "So, what's the plan?" The two looked at me, both mildly confused. "Do we stay or go?"

"Why would we stay?" Cleon asked, pushing himself up in a sitting position. "We have the treaties, and we've tents. The two of us can hunt. You keep us from killing each other. It all works out." Except for my sanity.

"I suppose he's asking because of _how many_ bounties there are," Elspeth whispered. She carefully shifted to sit a little closer to me. "There are two for you, and two others. One for someone who resembles Alistair and one who resembles Layla."

"Meaning they could be alive." Cleon smiled broadly, relief evident in his face. "I get it now."

"I would also like more information on those bounties," I added hesitantly, glancing at Lady Elspeth. She simply stared back at me, as if expecting something. "For instance, why the one that could fit Alistair is so high? I mean… it's higher than the rest of ours!"

"That's because Alistair is a political threat to Uncle Loghain," Lady Elspeth answered easily. My jaw dropped at that, and I glanced at Cleon to see if _he_ knew what she was talking about. The wide eyes and open mouth said 'no'. "The whole thing is truly Orlesian. It's almost laughable in its irony." Explanation, please. "So, we are staying for a bit."

"Yes, milady." I answered automatically, back straight and head low. Who was I to ask for an explanation? After all, I was…

"You mind telling?" Cleon asked dryly. I wasn't sure if I was pleased or not Cleon could say the words so easily. "I'm a little tired of not knowing stuff, and you're horrible at explaining things when you aren't prompted."

"Well…" Lady Elspeth began. She immediately tensed and stood, groping for her bow. I almost asked what was going on, but Cleon leapt to his feet, dagger in hand.

"Who's there?" I asked warily, pushing myself up slowly, feeling my spine snap and pop. There was no answer. "You have three seconds." Still no answer. "Two seconds." Nothing. "One sec-"

"C-cold…" A small boy finally stepped out of the foliage. He was grimy and shivering, clothes threadbare. Cleon immediately dropped his weapon and snatched the boy up in a blanket, dragging him by the fire. Lady Elspeth passed him some food and he tore into it. "Th-thank you," he mumbled. He looked between the three of us, face shining in innocent curiosity. "Um… is the Chantry near? Mama told me to run to it when the yelling men with axes came." Men…? Bandits?

"It is a short distance away." I glanced at the other two and we all exchanged small wry smiles. "Here. The nice lady and I will walk you there. Cleon, guard the camp, will you?" Cleon nodded and I held out my hand to the little boy. He took it instantly. "Let's go." And we'd have to report what happened to someone as well…

It would only be much later, long after we tended to things and gone to sleep, that I realized we never did get that explanation about Alistair. Ah well. It's probably something minor anyway.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note – Little filler chapter, with cameos here and there. Nothing too grand in the scheme of things, but hopefully getting in some needed character insight, now that we're reaching the end of the 'prologue' section of the game (…thirty chapters for the freaking prologue. Maker, this is going to be LONG). Meet the rest of the Hawkes! Diana is the other 'Main Character' for the future Saga of the Hawkes, splitting it with her elder sister, Minerva, who cameoed previously.
> 
> This will, likely, be the last chapter I get out before visiting family for the holidays (if it's not, it'll be only because the next one is so short). So, just in case, happy whatever you celebrate during December!
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Teagan and Anora


	34. Interlude - Uncle and Widow

Interlude – Uncle and Widow

* * *

He stands there, and he knows he sticks out. His fellows wear the clothing of their station, practical for the weather but not the best for fighting in. He, however, had come into this 'meeting' with armor and a weapon. He knows what this is about. He's not one to keep himself willfully blind while everything falls apart, and everyone is talking about what happened in the South.

He's prepared to voice what is needed, and he is even more than prepared for the potential consequences of doing so.

"And I expect each of you to supply these men," Loghain demands from above, as if being a war hero and high ranked noble is enough to make them bend. No, that has never been the way of Fereldan. Everything is earned, and Loghain has not earned the right to even ask such things, but less demand them like some Orlesian. "We must rebuild what was lost in Ostagar and quickly." Loghain certainly seems to think he has it, though, particularly with the recent widowed queen standing next to him, high above. "There are those who would take advantage of our weakened state if we let them." Oh, yes, that is quite true. That is why Howe had killed the Couslands with his ridiculous justification that no one believed. But did Loghain not realize the words he uses as justification could also be used for damning? He doubts it. "We must beat this darkspawn incursion." It is a Blight. He sees no reason to not believe the Wardens, and only a fool dismisses the possibility when the consequences of being wrong were so high. "But we must do so sensibly, and without hesitation."

'Sensibly', the teyrn says? Well, nothing about this is sensible. His nephew's body has not even been retrieved! "Your lordship, if I might speak?" he begins, stepping forward to make it even more obvious he is talking. Loghain looks startled, and Anora looks slightly confused at his armed state. "You have declared yourself Queen Anora's regent." He sees Anora's eyes narrow and knows he hit a nerve there. "You claim we must unite under your banner for 'our own good'." He glances up and sees the glare Loghain levels at him. But such things don't intimidate him. He is a Guerrin, and he is stubborn when he knows he is right. "But what of the army lost at Ostagar? Have you not heard what the people say? Many find your miraculous survival quite… convenient." There are murmurs around him, but, while none come to his aid, none also come to Loghain's, and that is more damning to the would-be regent than him.

"Everything I have done has been to secure Fereldan's independence." Yet Loghain's decision is doomed to tear Fereldan into pieces, not that the Teyrn could see that. "I have not shirked that duty, and neither will you."

"The Bannorn will not bend knee just because you demand it!" There are cheers, and this encourages him further. "Surely you saw that when the Orlesians tried to conquer us!"

"Understand this…" Loghain hisses, trying to frighten him into submission. But it will not work. "I will brook no threat to this nation from you or from anyone." From where he stands, though, he thinks the greatest threat to Fereldan is up there pretending to be savior.

Loghain leaves then, as if the matter is settled, ignorant, willfully or otherwise, on how his words have done nothing to secure his position. He rolls his eyes, growls under his breath, and makes to leave, nodding to some of the other Banns.

"Teagan!" But his attention is drawn back above to Anora, who leans on the railing to speak to him. "Please…" she begins, and he can already see the request in her eyes and demeanor.

But he cannot listen to it, so he interrupts her. "Your father risks civil war," he tells her bluntly. She winces and backs away. "If Eamon were here…" But he's not. His dear older brother is ill and nothing will cure him.

"…My father knows what is best…" But she won't look him in the eye as she whispers the words.

So, he asks her another question to try and get her to think. "Did he also do what was best for your husband?" She steps back, still looking away, and he follows the crowd out of the room, making plans to return to Redcliffe.

* * *

But even as she staggers back, she clenches her jaw and rushes down the stairs, furious behind her composure. She hates being taken by surprise. She hates not having a perfect retort to someone's question. So, she'll be damned before letting him leave without her saying something.

"Teagan," she calls again, reaching him just before he leaves the room. He turns to look at her, barely giving a polite bow. "What is it that you truly wish to say to me?" His eyes spark with a fire she doesn't quite recognize, but he remains silent. "You certainly spoke your mind earlier to my father. Give me the same courtesy. I will gladly hear it."

"Oh, is that so?" he asks, voice filled with sarcasm. "Truly, I'm grateful." She almost retorts, but he continues without letting her. "Why do you not do anything? Why leave this all to your father?" Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn't been this. "You're the queen!" Yes, she knows that. She has been raised to be queen ever since she was a young girl. It's all she knows, and all she's wanted. "You've ruled for five years!" Her pride warms at hearing that. No 'administration' as his brother would say, but open acknowledgement.

Still… "We live in a society where men are considered the 'superior' race, despite all protests of equality," she reminds him bitterly. This was despite Andraste, warrior queen rebel, mother of many. Yet despite the holiness all would give the Maker's Bride, any woman who wants authority outside of the Chantry has to claw for it. It is a state of mind that baffles her.

"You would be fighting tooth and nail if anyone but your father were the one doing this." …She can't fault him for that logic. But she has faith in her father. He has always listened to her in the past. She is still in control. Though it rankles her to rule through someone again, it's fine. It's her father. She loves and trusts him. Just as she said, he is doing what is best.

That doesn't mean, however, she won't keep her opportunities open. "Well, suppose I did step up as you seem to suggest." She carefully clasps her hands behind her back, to give a softer, more friendly posture. "Would you support me?"

"The Landsmeet might." His eyes are hard. "I won't." The words startle her. "Ignoring how you do not intervene now, when there is simply a threat and not outright bloodshed, there are only a handful of differences between you and your father, after all, and your greatest similarity is not one I can support." He turns away from her and walks without requesting permission. "You're both far too convinced you're in the right of it."

She stares after him, and isn't certain what she thinks. Of course she and her father know what's best for Ferelden. Right? They have for years. Yet she couldn't shake the sinking feeling that maybe, possibly, for the first time, she might be wrong.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: It's rather interesting how you have Andraste, a woman, who is recognized as being holy while still reflecting her warrior and motherly aspects, yet Thedas, as a majority, has some sexism towards women? Never thought about it, since there's… not really an EXPLANATION for it. Though maybe half of it is what the fans claim to support their views… huh. Anyway. (No, I will not debate things like this. Please don't try to start one. I will ignore it.)
> 
> This is MOSTLY based on the cutscene in game, while also adding a bit to flesh out some things, like why Anora doesn't yell at her father (both believes in him and is convinced she's still in command) until it's a little late, as well as why some people might not want to support Anora despite the good that she did (she is like her father, who is throwing the country into ruin, and is not stopping him). The break this time is simply for a change in the POV, to reflect them both in this interlude (as Teagan made sense at the beginning, but ending on Anora allowed for further characterization).
> 
> Next chapter – Lothering with Nuada


	35. Chapter 31) Lothering

Chapter 31) Lothering

Nuada POV

* * *

It was strange. This country was home, and this man chatting with Father was an old friend, but both were unfamiliar. Still, I kept the smile on my face, balancing out Elspeth's stoic observations by keeping track on the conversation. Even though the smile hurt my face, it was better than letting anyone know I was shaken. Ferelden couldn't be that different from Orlais, right?

"So, these are your youngest, Bryce?" Father's friend asked. His looks were Orlesian, but he's a powerful Arl here in the South. "Maker, I thought I felt old with Habren toddling about, but now I'm really feeling it." Surprisingly, the man offeeds his hand to us, instead of simply patting us on the head. "I doubt you two remember me at all. I'm Leonas Bryland. Your father and I have been friends for more years than I care to admit." His smile was warm, open, and that was unnerving.

But I knew to hide that. "Hi, Uncle Leonas!" I chirped, bright and cheerful. I took the hand enthusiastically, shaking it up and down, watching as his face softened further. "Nice to see you again!" Please don't be like Orlais. Please don't be like Orlais. "I'm Nuada!"

The Lothering in my memory was bright and cheerful, always on the edge of a festival, with people singing and skipping. The Lothering in front of me was probably the exact opposite. It was frantic and shaking, overrun with terror, and few people were out and about. They probably already knew about Ostagar and the Blight.

"You know, you could be helping us!" Blinking slowly, I turned to find a strangely irate Morrigan scowling up at me. It took another few blinks to realize Alistair and Layla were knocking out the 'toll givers'. "Well?"

"I think they have it well in hand," I answered after a moment of studying. These were simple bandits, and it showed in their armor and fighting. Besides, they were aiming to knock them out and, well, I was rather bad at that. "When did the negotiations fall apart?"

"When Layla said they were Wardens." That was an odd response. "There was a mention of collecting a bounty." There was a…? Oh, that was clever. It was incredibly stupid in the long run, but for something that had probably been conceived on the fly, it was quite clever. "How could you not notice?"

"I suppose there wasn't enough screaming." I smiled at her and she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Still, if there are bounties, then collecting information has gotten just a bit harder."

"They are fools to take us."

"Yes, desperation can make people quite foolish." She frowned and I shrugged. "Morrigan, have you ever gone hungry?" She shook her head. "People around here have. They do their best, but these aren't good lands for random foraging, and the planting can only do so much." That wasn't even going into how half their workers either had been conscripted into the army before Ostagar, or were about to be to rebuild the army lost there, significantly reducing the chances of getting a good harvest. "A decent bounty can feed a family of five for a good three or four months, and times are about to get even harder." She scowled, and I grinned. "They could, also, just be idiots. You might not be wrong!"

"I hate you." So long as she didn't try to hide frogspawn in my pockets like she did Alistair, I could deal with that. "How do you know all that?"

"Believe it or not, I did take my duties as a noble seriously." She frowned again. "You're already plotting a way to get me back, aren't you?"

"Yes." At least she was honest. "Something you know nothing about."

"I'm sure you can school me about magic." She smirked. "I'll gladly listen to your lectures later."

"Well, here's Lothering," Alistair muttered as we walked down the stairs. "Pretty as a painting, right?" If we were going with dismal pictures, then yes, it was.

"Ah, and you finally choose to rejoin us," Morrigan noted lightly. Her tone was joking, but her eyes were not. "And here I thought you were just going to fall on your blade in grief."

"Is my being upset so hard to understand?" Layla and I exchanged a long suffering look as Morrigan and Alistair fell into another argument. "What would you do if your mother died?"

"Before or after I stopped laughing." In her defense, I would probably laugh myself silly too if someone told me they'd killed Flemeth. It was still rather harsh. "Nuada showed no such inclinations, and I dare say he had some more personal stakes than you."

"Sorrow is not a competition," I interrupted heatedly. "Everyone grieves different." I reached the bottom of the stares and glowered right at her. She scowled right back. "That is the end of the matter."

"A-are you all right, Alistair?" Layla asked timidly. She gently touched his arm to make sure she had his attention. "You have been rather quiet."

"Oh, I'm sure he's fine," Morrigan snarked, crossing her arms as she hit the last step. "Idiots seem to be."

"Oh, I get it," Alistair sighed, rounding on Morrigan. "This is the part where we are so shocked you never had a friend in your life."

"I can be friendly when I desire to." Layla seemed to choke on a startled squeak at that. "Alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so." I knew quite a few scholars who were the epitome of friendliness, and it was sheer stupidity to purposely alienate potential allies.

"Not even going to comment." Alistair sighed and shook his head. "Regardless, we should… probably try and figure out where we're going to go from here."

"I thought we were going to see if we can find information on the others," Layla whispered. Alistair smiled slightly in relief. "I am not sure how to ask around, though."

"You need a back-up plan," Morrigan pointed out, just a little testy. I sighed and rolled my shoulders, nodding in agreement. "There could be no information at all."

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine," Alistair snarked. Layla tugged my arm in silent question, but I shook my head. This wasn't going to be something that could be solved so easily. It was better to let them trade little barbs to prevent something worse from happening. "I must wonder why you think it's such a strength to be so cynical. After all, you're just going with the flow of the world." On the other hand, we were not going to be indulging in philosophical debate right now.

"Enough, she is right on finding alternatives," I interrupted, stepping between the two. Morrigan, at least, showed some reluctance in attacking me. "We're not sure they came to Lothering." We weren't even certain they made it out of Ostagar alive. "This is a case of being realistic, not cynical, for once." I hoped someone else took over with playing peacekeeper. I much preferred acting the fool and getting laughs and rolls of eyes. "So, suggestions?"

"I still think Arl Eamon is our best bet for help." I was glad Alistair was willing to let the matter rest for now. "Especially since we don't have any treaties." That was probably true. "I'd prefer finding the others first, but if there's no trail…"

"W-what about Fergus?" Layla whispered. A wave of pain shot through me at the mention of my elder brother, but I kept the smile on. "Would he help?"

"Fergus was last seen going into the Wilds," I reminded lightly, with a shrug of nonchalance I didn't feel. "If we were going to hunt for him, we went the completely wrong way."

"But-!"

"We don't have time." Anger bled through the words and I flinched and looked away, to the village filled with people who were going to lose everything. "It's not an option." I shifted my weight and winced as fresh pain ripped through my side. Maker, what did I do to aggravate the wounds this time?

"Well, looks like it's my turn to ask if you're all right." And I had a worried Alistair in my face. I smiled, but he frowned. "You can voice anger, you know," he pointed out. The notion was funny enough to almost make me laugh. I was close to snapping, yes, but there was no reason to encourage my temper. "No one is going to laugh or anything. Well, Morrigan might, but she's a bitch." I heard a wordless protest from the woman in question. "So…"

"Don't we have work to do?" I asked, still smiling. Alistair's frown just deepened. "I think so, yes?"

"I seriously worry for your health."

"I promise it won't get in the way of things." Alistair looked like he was going to say something, but he sighed and shook his head instead. I had to say, though, being around these three was seriously disconcerting. I'd never had anyone outside of my family pay so close attention to my mental and physical health. "Regardless, if that's the plan, let's just split up and meet at the tavern. I'll head with Morrigan." I could keep up with her barbs, at least. "Everyone always meets at the tavern." Though I sincerely doubted we'd find much of anything. "So, let's go."

* * *

So, the good thing about the bounties is that people were, in fact, keeping an eye out for them. The bad thing was that there were four separate bounties, instead of a more general 'Wardens' one like I'd assumed, with one for Aiden, Cleon, Layla, and Alistair respectively, meaning that I'd accidentally concentrated the danger instead of spreading it. I was mildly amused and disgusted there wasn't one for me, but I wouldn't think of the reason behind it for now. It was far more important to find Alistair and Layla before some would-be bounty hunters caught them and they were forced to defend themselves. I doubted either of them would take well to it.

"Why is the one for Alistair higher than the rest?" Morrigan growled as we stepped inside the tavern. She glared at someone who tried to shake her hand, making them skitter away. "He might be six months your senior, but a mage would be far more dangerous."

"One, Layla has an aversion to killing things," I replied, stepping into the crowd. There were murmurs and whispers, hinting of a conflict up ahead. "Two, I don't know and it's not important." The only thing that was… was how high they were. Was there even enough in the treasury to support those bounties, on top of everything else that was going to have to be done? Highever would lend, certainly, but we weren't in a state to do so for now!

"It could be." She… had a point. But it wasn't immediately important, and that's all I cared about for now. "You like dismissing things that you think aren't important. Mother warned me of that."

"Then you get to say 'I told you so'. I'm simply trying to be accommodating."

"I look forward to it." I just walked head first into a trap. At least I wasn't in a court. She'd do well in Orlais.

"Didn't we spend all morning asking about two people of this description?" That voice rang clear through the crowd. I took advantage of my height to see over some people, and grimaced as I caught soldiers in the armor of Gwaren standing in the middle of the drinking area. I couldn't see who they were talking to yet, but I had a very good guess. "Everyone claimed they hadn't seen them. It seems we were lied too."

"Or maybe they just got here, you miserable sods." To my surprise, a woman with a braid as long as my ponytail and a hunting bow in hand stepped up to glare at them. "Is that too much a leap of logic for you?"

"Please, mistress, stay out of this." That was Alistair. I could see the back of his head from here. Layla, I assumed, was standing next to him; she was too small to see quite yet. "You don't know what they'll do."

"It's Diana, not 'mistress', and if they cause trouble here, the templars will be on their asses in a heartbeat. Ours are the good sort, who care more for keeping the peace than hunting innocent mages."

"Protect these traitors, and we will exact the law no matter what your templars claim," the soldier growled. I twitched at the word 'traitor'. No. That word would never be associated with Alistair and Layla. "We will be within our rights." I caught a glow out of the corner of my eye and grabbed Morrigan by the shoulder in silent warning. Magic couldn't be used openly here. "We'll take the criminals in at once." I was almost there. I could grab them if need- "Leading the King to his death, delaying the beacon to ensure it.

I felt something snap in my head as I forced a smile on my face, casually grabbed the man by the arm, and twisted it sharply to snap it at the elbow. "A little pain is good for waking the brain up," I noted lightly, letting the smile fall as it got too painful. The soldier gasped in pain, looking up at me. I leaned back against a table to make it a little easier on him. "Did it work?"

"Who in Andraste's name do you think you are?!" he snarled, for very good reason. But I was angry, so I didn't really care.

"I am Nuada Cousland of Highever." The man instantly paled, and not just from the pain. "I was one of the three who lit the beacon." More of the color left his face. "Perhaps it was an unfortunate decision, but Cailan made his own damn choice, and I will not let you insult him or the Wardens by twisting the truth of the matter." I grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up, shifting to accommodate the weight. "If Cailan overreached himself, then maybe it was because a certain person kept constantly comparing him to his father and making him feel inadequate." My grip tightened and the soldier coughed. "It was not the Wardens who chose to leave, you son of a-!"

A gentle, calloused hand touched my shoulder. "Easy." A soothing voice whispered in my ear, the words in harsh Nevarran to stand out against the lilting King's Tongue of Fereldan. "It's okay." I knew this voice. I knew this presence.

"Hey to you too, Elspeth," I whispered, feeling myself calm instantly. I felt her lean against my back. "Yeah, I kept my promise. I'm fine."

"You're absolutely wretched to make me wait," she muttered. Her hand tightened on my shoulder. "Let him go."

I did after a moment, steadying the man so he didn't fall. "Tell him that Elsepth and I live," I ordered. There was no need to clarify the 'him'. "Tell him that there are still Wardens who know the true threat." It was not Orlais, no matter what his paranoia said. "Understood?" The soldier nodded quickly. "Then leave." As he scrambled away, tripping over himself, I sighed. "Alistair, for the record, this is why I try to not get angry."

"Duly noted." At least Alistair didn't sound too afraid. "Layla, you can stop hiding now." Of course, I scared her. Argh… "You were right. He stopped before punching someone." …Wait, what? "I'm sure someone more suited to lecturing will talk about the bad things about anger, but I'm… really not one to talk either when it comes to decision making and tempers." Huh?

"I volunteer for that," Morrigan offered. She gave me a sour look, and I wondered if it was just because I'd left her behind to be horribly dramatic in my anger. "I have a lecture already planned."

"Not sure if you're the person for that, but whatever." Alistair shrugged. "Who's behind you, though?"

"So, it seems our theory was correct," Elspeth murmured as she poked her head from around me. She had a hooded cloak on to hide from strangers, but I saw her wear a small smile anyway. "It is good to see you two are well, Alistair, Layla."

"Elspeth!" Layla gasped, lunging from Alistair's side to tackle my sister with an unexpected hug that took both of us by surprise. "Maker, I thank you for your mercy! Where are Aiden and Cleon?"

"Aiden is at the market where I left him." Elspeth hesitantly returned Layla's hug. "Cleon is at camp." They were alive too? Haha… I felt like crying from sheer joy. "Alistair, are you all right?"

"I-I'm fine!" he squeaked. I couldn't help but snicker as I caught his blush. Morrigan laughed out right. "Oh, shut up, you."

"Oh, that's reminds me!" I murmured, before gesturing to Morrigan. "Elspeth, this is Morrigan. She and her mother saved us."

"Then I am in her debt." Elspeth bowed to Morrigan and, to my surpsie, she looked a little uncomfortable by that. "Thank you, truly. I know Nuada is a horrible patient." Hey! "We can talk more on the way, though. It will be better for us to leave, and quickly." She already started for the door and I gestured for the others to go ahead of me. As they did, I noticed something that almost made my smile slip. Elspeth was limping. It was slight, but noticeable. How had… no, I shouldn't question. She was alive, and that was more than I could've hoped for. I was content with that. I had to be.

"Hey." Startled, I whirled, and came face to face to the woman from earlier. I'd forgotten all about her. "Sorry, the name is Diana," she greeted with a slight bow to her head. "That girl you were traveling with... what's her name?"

"Which one?" I asked cautiously, facing her fully. "There were three there."

"I know the noble huntress." If she was talking about Elspeth, she... didn't really know Elspeth at all. I'd call her more of an assassin than a huntress. "I'm talking about the mage who dressed conservatively. And don't say you don't know mages. I know those two were."

"Why do you want to know?" I would reveal nothing. "Are you a bounty hunter?"

"Me? Well, I hunt, but only animals, and I don't call attention to myself." She sounded almost bitter about that. "She looks a little like my sister, so I was curious, nothing more."

"...It's Layla. I don't know her family name, if she has one." That was a lie, but I would tell that to a stranger. "She might've discarded it in the Tower."

"I see." She sighed, shaking her head. "Sorry for the weird question. Get your wounds treated when you leave." How did she...? Wait, there was a faint glow in her hands, almost hidden by the gloves. I immediately stepped back, even though I knew magic didn't have a range. "I promise I won't hurt you. I'm not even healing you, at the moment."

I had some not so fond memories of that phrase. They never ended well. "You shouldn't reveal your secrets so easily."

"You did." My name was no secret, and any survivor would know who was assigned to the beacon. "Perhaps I'll see you again."

"Well, if that's true, then until then." Deciding to be cheeky, I bowed with a flourish and turned to walk outside of the tavern.

Layla was waiting for me. "Why did you linger?" she asked, tugging my arm. Her eyes were dark with worry. "We turned around and you weren't there. Elspeth wasn't fretting, but..."

"I was just chatting with the patrons and apologizing." No, that was what I should have done, but I couldn't go in now. Maybe if we lingered a day, I could sneak back and at least pay the owner for any damages. "I'm sorry. Here, lead the way." She nodded and took my hand to tug me in the right direction.

For some reason, her hand was far warmer than I expected. How... peculiar.

* * *

"Stupid shemlen and your lack of good timing!" Cleon's words might have been angry, but the way he clung slightly in his welcoming hugs and kept his head down to hide tears spoke far louder. "Idiotic…!"

"Are you going to cry?" I teased. This promptly earned me a punch to the shoulder. "Ow."

"You're the worst of the lot!" Cleon whirled away, going back to cooking stew on the fire as Elspeth partitioned out the supplies. There were enough bedrolls for everyone, but not enough tents. Luckily, the tents were large enough for multiple sleepers. "Ugh… I lost so much sleep over you lot!"

"Aw, I didn't know you cared so much!" Alistair laughed. He'd flopped next to Elspeth by the fire, carefully warming his hands. Layla was behind him, close enough for the warmth, but still unable to see the flames. "Morrigan, you can get a little closer. Or will too much heat melt your witchy skin?"

"I fear catching your stupidity," Morrigan snapped, building her own fire a distance away from us. She'd already stolen one of the few tents, and I doubted she intended to share. Perhaps the next shopping trip should include trying to procure more, as well as armor for Alistair.

"Oh, ouch, that hurt my feelings."

"Please do not fight," Layla sighed, pressing her back more firmly against Alistair's. She closed her eyes, looking even more drained. "We are all reunited."

"Well, mostly," Cleon said. He gestured for me to sit down, so I flopped next to my sister. She gave me a smile that quickly turned to a frown. Oh, what did she notice that I had forgotten about? It was going to bite me in the ass soon, just like always. "Aiden is still out. Elspeth, weren't you with him?"

"Yes, but we heard of a commotion in the tavern," Elspeth explained. She set down the last of the bedrolls and scooted a little closer to me. "I figured the only one who could be causing trouble with soldiers would be Nuada, so I went to confirm my suspicion." I stuck my tongue at her childishly and she frowned slightly at me before continuing. "That's all."

"I see." Cleon returned to his stirring and Elspeth started helping me take off my armor. I almost protested, but relented. She probably wanted to have it cleaned and fixed. "So, I'm assuming we'll be staying an extra day or two. Alistair needs armor."

"Yeah, sorry," Alistair mumbled, running a hand through his hair sheepishly. "It… well… broke up there on the Tower. Ogres don't appreciate fine equipment."

"You fought an ogre?" Cleon's face paled and his hands shook slightly. "Well, I'm glad you got off better than your king." So, Cailan had been killed by an ogre. Well, it was dramatic enough for him, if I had to find a bright side to this. "And… and Mythal, help me, Nuada, what is with those wounds?"

It took me a couple of seconds to realize Elspeth had long since removed my armor, and pushed up my shirt. "I know my clothes are a mess, but you didn't have to do that," I groaned, shifting to better glower at her. She simply shrugged me off and poked at the stained bandages. Blood was seeping through. "How did you figure it out?"

"You were sitting stiffly, favoring one side," she answered easily. A quick shift confirmed that. I hadn't noticed. "You also had your eyes narrowed, like you always do when you're hurting." Aha… Well, that part made sense because this did really hurt.

"I can heal them!" Layla dismissed. She jumped to her feet, heading over with magic already in her hands. "When did you get them? I did not know you were injured!" I scooted back as she approached and she stumbled into a stop, looking confused. "Um…"

"I'll be fine with a quick change of bandages," I refused. She took another step closer and I moved back farther. Elspeth left my side, likely to get bandages for me. "There's no need."

"But…" She still came closer, and I still backed away. "I can make it better now, though?"

I tensed at the words, tensed more as she reached for me. I remembered a time someone said that phrase to me, and the result was… "I said 'no'." I batted her hand away and winced at how she flinched, looking so hurt. Part of me wanted to try and explain, but… B-besides, I had a right to refuse. "I will be fine without it."

"I…" Please tell me she wasn't going to cry. Please…

"Layla, you mind making sure Alistair doesn't mess up this stew." Surprisingly, Cleon came to my rescue. He ruffled her hair, smiling gently. "Leave the stubborn idiot to me and Elspeth." Layla looked ready to refuse, but then she looked down at her hand and nodded. "Right then." He nudged her towards the fire, where Alistair waited with a comically scared expression that got her laughing before long. I was glad for that. "Now…" Cleon knelt next to me, prodding my stomach wound. Pain rippled through me, but I grit my teeth. "There's an odd magic on them." Hmm? "Did Asha'bellanar request you not get these healed by magic?"

"No," I answered, slightly confused by his reaction. But maybe that type of magic was better known to the Dalish. "There's simply no reason for it."

"There's plenty of reasoning. You ripped your stitches." Oh, so that was why it kept hurting. "I'll have to sew it shut. You mind taking off your shirt?"

"Well, if such a handsome lad insists…" Cleon rolled his eyes and mimed a blow at my head as I obeyed. "Looks like that's the only troublesome one. The rest are healing fine." That was good to know. It was hard to see the ones on my collarbone. "Elspeth, you have that needle?"

"It's right here." Elspeth dangled it in his face by the thread and, to my surprise, actually playfully tugged it out of his reach a couple of times before handing it over. It was nice to see her so friendly with others. "Thank you, very much, for volunteering to sew it," she whispered, prodding my temple with her finger. Knowing it was her form of 'punishment', I took it without comment. "I… don't think I'll be able to again."

"You might, if it was needed, but I'm here, so there's no reason to make yourself sick." Cleon sat down fully and took off my bandages. "I'm afraid we don't have anything to numb it."

"To be blunt, Cleon, I'm in enough pain that I doubt I'll notice," I informed him quietly. He gave me a questioning look, but a quick look to Elspeth made him shrug and set about stitching my wound. "…Thank you."

"Unnatural for you to be reasonable." I fought the urge to roll my eyes as Elspeth went to go check on Morrigan. "Say something that'll make me want to hit you."

"Alack, alay, I don't know how to comply with your demands!" That did earn me a bop. "Well, maybe I do, then."

"Maybe I should muzzle you."

"We'll need a safeword first." Well, that got a flush. "So… actually, maybe I shouldn't say that while you're poking me with a sharp object."

"A needle can't do much." A needle could do a lot. "Tell me how you got out of the Tower."

I hesitated before nodding. "Yeah, you're probably the only one who will believe parts of it." Where best to begin…?

* * *

"Well, I'm glad I bought that extra tent." That was Aiden's first response after staring at everyone for five minutes with an open mouth and wide eyes. "As well as bowls, rations, bandages…" He babbled out a list before shaking his head and grinning. "I am gladdened to see you all are well, just as we theorized." Oh, so they'd come up with theories too? It must've been the bounties.

"Who's your friend, lethallin?" Cleon asked, snatching the bowls from Aiden to dole out more portions of the stew that had miraculously survived Alistair. He'd tried to hand one to me, but Elspeth and I both shrugged and shook our heads. We didn't mind sharing; we'd done so a lot as children. "Hope you don't mind stew."

"I promise I'm not picky," the woman laughed, stepping to accept the bowl with a smile. She bore a soft, but distinct Orlesian accent, though she wore the robes of a Fereldan Chantry sister. "My name is Leliana. Aiden has graciously allowed me to join your company." That name was familiar… oh, wait, I knew her. She was one of the bards in Marjolaine's employ, though not one of the ones she'd sent to try and tempt Fergus. She seemed… softer now, warmer, but I was still certain of her face. "Don't worry. I know my way around bows and knives." I glanced at Elspeth, curious if she'd recognized her as well. Noticing my gaze, she nodded, frowning slightly. I thought a little about it and shrugged. After all, the only danger from her would be if she were trying to assassinate one of us and only an idiot put out a contract on a Warden, especially with darkspawn about. She was a bit more hesitant before agreeing with a simple nod and slight smile.

"What are you two talking about?" I blinked slowly at Morrigan's question. She frowned heavily at us, eyes darting our faces. "Well?" she demanded, crossing her arms. Her half-eaten stew sat at her feet. "Tell me."

"Why should we tell you about our private conversation?" I asked back, smiling as she scowled. "It's nothing important anyway." I glanced again at Elspeth, who nodded. We'd watch her, of course, but no need to talk about it here. "So don't worry about it." Morrigan's scowl deepened, but I just continued to smile. "Are you done with your food?" With a small start, she picked up her bowl and continued eating. "I thought so."

"You took a while to get back," Alistair noted, speaking around the spoon in his mouth. He was sitting between Elspeth and Layla, and I used him as a very convenient shield when Layla started frowning at me worriedly. "Everything all right?"

"I…" Aiden's eyes flickered in pain before shaking his head. "Unfortunately, some farmers recognized me from the bounty, and tried to ambush me," he mumbled, sitting down between Layla and Cleon with his bowl of stew in hand. "I was fortunate Leliana came when she did. She spun quite a story to convince the templars I was completely innocent of wrong doing." A bard had to be a talented liar, almost by trade. "That's when she offered to help, though I know not why."

"I feel it is the Maker's wish," Leliana answered easily, sitting next to Morrigan. Morrigan, of course, glared at her, but Leliana ignored it, digging into the stew. "And I didn't just happen to be there, as I told you before. I had been looking for you." I really hoped that just meant she was a good intentioned crazy person, and not sent to spy. It wouldn't change much, but it might cause complications later.

"Did you have to kill them, Aiden?" Layla asked softly, cupping her bowl in her lap. Her face fell when Aiden winced. "I see. I suppose… you did not have a choice…"

"So, if it wasn't obvious before, those bounties mean we can't stay in places for long," Cleon pointed out. He seemed perfectly comfortable with the notion as he sat back on his heels, but, then again, as a Dalish, he was likely very used to moving around. "We need to leave soon." But no one had an answer as to where, and the crackling fire filled the far too long silence.

"Well, we do have the treaties, but perhaps we should wait a day to decide on what to do with them?" Aiden suggested hesitantly after he ate all of his food. His eyes flitted over all of us, as if begging someone else to take charge. His gaze lingered longest on me, likely because I was technically one of the highest ranked person here, but I paid attention to Elspeth, who seemed more than content with Aiden leading. That was enough for me. "We are tired, and have just reunited, so…"

"Sounds good to me!" Alistair laughed, easing the tension somewhat. "So, how are sleeping arrangements going to go? Sneaky witch thief over there stole one and I somehow doubt she'll share."

"Leliana, Layla, and I can share one," Elspeth offered. For a split second, I thought it strange, but then realized it was the perfect place to keep an eye on her, and that was enough for her to swallow her discomfort around strangers. "I think the three of us are small enough."

"So, that just leaves us boys to divide the last two tents, yeah?" I asked, reaching back to undo my ponytail and finger-comb my hair. I'd borrow a brush from Elspeth in the morning. "Cleon would probably prefer to be away from my sense of humor in the evenings." A laugh bubbled out at Cleon's playful nod. "Since Alistair has a similar sense of humor, that rules him out too."

"So, we throw the two smartasses together and let them joke their ears off," Cleon declared. Without meaning to, I laughed again. "Is that all right with you, Aiden?" He paused before grimacing. "I want to make it clear that it's their sense of humor I have a problem with, not that they are shemlen, because otherwise this is going to be awkward."

"I probably would be too tense to sleep around them for the same reason," Aiden muttered. The sudden wide eyes and darkening of his face made me wonder if that was meant to be aloud. "B-begging your pardon, my lord, Warden Alistair."

"One, you're a Warden too, so don't call me that," Alistair informed him cheerfully, but there was strain in his smile and panic in his eyes. Why? "Two, considering some of the things I've heard, I can't say I blame you." Aiden still looked mortified. "So, is it sleep time? Because I'm about to pass out."

"With the amount you ate, I am not surprised," Layla gently teased, earning a laugh from the group. "I am… tired myself, though."

"I'm afraid I'm still eating, so you two go on ahead," Leliana urged, smiling as she set her spoon down. "I'll join you when I'm done."

"That sounds wonderful."

There were a few other murmurs, excuses, as people either closed in around the fire or went to their tents. I debated staying up, but the wounds were still keening, so it would probably be best to rest and try not to stress them. So, after pressing my forehead to Elspeth's in a silent goodnight, I followed Alistair into one of the tents, stepping past him when he stopped in the middle of the entrance.

I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw the bedrolls already spread up, opened slightly to make it easier to get in. "Well, it's nice to see a familiar sight," I noted with a small grin. Elspeth had always done the same when we had to camp out, and it was comforting she continued it now. "This is perfect." Noticing Alistair still lingering behind, I chose a roll at random and flopped down on it. "Hey, these are good quality." It must've been because we managed to raid the leftover treasury before… no, damn it, I didn't need to remember.

"Way more comfortable than the ones I had during training," Alistair agreed, sitting on the other bedroll. "Shame we don't have any caramels."

"Where did that come from?" I sat up and pulled off my shirt, storing it under the bedroll for a little bit of an extra pillow.

"Cullen would give them to me." Who? "Ah, right, sorry. Cullen was one of the trainees with me, though he was super studious, so he got to take his vows early." I glanced back and noticed Alistair smiling nostalgically. "His sister, Mia, would constantly send him sweets, especially these caramel things, and he'd share them with me. We'd often share tents during the training camping, so I started craving them."

"Caramel treats are cheap closer to the mountains." Satisfied with the makeshift pillow, I worked on setting my shield where I could grab it easily, yet wouldn't crash down and give us heart attacks. "There's this village called Honnleath just within the Arling of Redcliffe that has some of the best I've ever had. If we get a chance, maybe we should buy some."

"Sounds good." There was some silence for a moment, and I heard sounds of metal suggesting Alistair was also setting up his weapons for the night. "Those wounds you have…" he began just when the silence was about to get stifling. I bit back a sigh and tensed for the expected questions of why I wasn't letting the mage heal me. So, of course, he said nothing of it. "They don't fit."

"Hmm?" Having finally gotten my uncooperative shield in a good place, I set my sword close by and slipped inside the bedroll, back to Alistair. "What do you mean?"

"Where the wounds are. You shouldn't have any. Not based on your armor." …Ah. "In fact, based on the placement, there are wounds I would expect to have myself, but don't. Rather curious, yes?"

"Alistair, it's been a long day." I wasn't going to explain this. "Let's just go to sleep."

"Yeah, good point. I'm sure this is just rambling theories of the exhausted." I snorted at the joke. "But, you know… Layla really does want to help you. Just consider it." I pretended to be asleep to avoid having to commit an answer. "Sweet dreams, Nuada."

Unfortunately, even as Alistair became lost in his dreams, sleep eluded me, trapped in my thoughts. I knew Layla wanted to help. She really wanted to. She was pushy over it. That was the problem. That's why all of my warning bells rung with each insistence. Just why would someone be so eager to heal a fellow who had already said 'no'? It reminded me of Orlais and the Game, with people so eager to get others in their debts. It might not matter, with her being an ally, but the mages of the Circle had their own politics, and it could be as cutthroat as the Game. Granted, she looked innocent, acted innocent, but was it all an act? I didn't… think so, but betrayal was painful. I didn't want another one so soon.

Then there were even darker questions. Was she like that healer in Antiva who…?

It was easier just to forget everything and sleep. I had duties to uphold, and none of them involved remembering things that no longer mattered, because the lessons they gave, I knew from long ago. Just sleep and forget. It was so much easier.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: Whee, the gang is all together! …Maker, I hope I can balance everyone… anyway, not a lot here. Just… getting the group together, and getting Leliana off screen. Sten shall join next chapter. I like the interpretation that Morrigan is actually pretty sheltered and naïve for all of her cynicism, for multiple reasons, including making her a good counterpart to Layla. I'm choosing to believe that the Chantry Uniforms differ between different countries, considering how I think they've looked different in all three games. If you're wondering about the Cullen reference, Cullen is the same age as Alistair according to Word of Bioware (or a year younger), so there's a decent chance they'd been in training together until Cullen became a templar at eighteen (according to Inquisition). I find this mental image hilarious, SO.
> 
> Next Chapter – Attack on Lothering with Cleon.


	36. 32) Vanguard

Chapter 32) Vanguard  
Cleon POV

* * *

“Hahren, what’s the difference between scouts and a vanguard?” I asked one day, after a long tale about the exalted marches that devastated the old homeland.   
“A scout moves alone, to sight the area,” Hahren Paivel answered absently. I had a good feeling the only reason I was even getting an answer was because he was distracted by some new text the hunter had brought back. “A vanguard, however, is the frontmost part of an army. They herald what is to come.”  
“Oh.” I was silent for maybe thirty seconds before asking again, “so, vanguards mean war?”  
“Yes, da’len. Vanguards mean war.” He paused before looking at me. “Why are you asking?”  
“Just curious.” I smiled. “I’m going to go play now.” And I escaped before he could ask more questions.

* * *

“Elspeth said we had to get more food,” Layla explained as we entered the market. She held my hand to keep from getting lost and I honestly couldn’t tell you who was holding on tighter. Me or her? “And… I think she also mentioned soap?”  
“Soap, sun lotion, whatever medical treatments we could snag, and thread,” Aiden listed off easily from in front of us. Even though he was ahead, and hooded like the rest of us, I knew his face was still in a glower from earlier, which proved handy in getting people to steer clear of us whether he intended it or not. Wasn’t sure what exactly Leliana had said to make him so obviously show anger, though. Was it a sign of cracking or was it really that bad?  
“You stare so much at him.” I glanced to my other side where Morrigan clung like a burr. Strange. I’d expected her to not like being close to people. Maybe I was just preferable to the rest. Though I hoped she was keeping my arm so close to her breast on purpose. I didn’t want to disrespect her boundaries, even unwittingly. “Are you attracted to him?” she asked me with a coy little smile. I coughed and sputtered at the thought. “No? No lust for the men?”  
“I… no,” I mumbled, feeling a slightly blush on my face. “I’ve had crushes, but no real sexual longing. Any reason you were asking?”  
“Just curious on my own chances.” What. “Layla, you are redder than a cardinal’s breast.” A quick glance proved her right. “Surely, you are not blushing over something so natural.”  
“I…” Layla began, eyes darting to the side. She squeaked and pressed into me as some people surged past. “It is wonderful you are confident enough to be so bold.”  
“Naturally.” Morrigan, could you be smugger?  
“H-however, I am not certain that is a conversation when w-we are looking for things in stalls?”   
“She has a point,” I agreed, noting we were just following Aiden aimlessly into the market. “Aiden, are you even paying attention?” There was no reply. “Lethalin?” Still nothing. “Creators, above…” I casually prodded the back of his knee with my foot, and burst into laughter at his yelp. “There we go. Lethalin, we’re at the market.” He blinked at me slowly before looking around. He hadn’t noticed at all. “So, how are we going to work this out?”  
“Ah, right, I figured we’d split up,” Aiden answered after a moment, stepping back towards us three. “I wasn’t sure how, of course, but that would be easiest.”  
“I’ll go with Morrigan.” I had a sneaky suspicion she wasn’t done with the earlier conversation. No need to make Layla die of embarrassment. “What should we look for?”  
“Medical treatments and the sun lotion.” Made sense. I’d probably know more about both than Layla and Aiden, and the same to Morrigan. “Let’s meet up here again at the sun height bell, right near the cage there.” Worked for me. “Is… is that okay?”  
“I’ve no objections.” I glanced at the two girls, who both nodded. Morrigan even had a small smirk. “See you soon.”  
“Right.” He passed me a small coin purse and I smiled sheepishly as I realized I’d almost forgotten about it. The Dalish so rarely used coin… “See you soon.”  
“See you.” And Morrigan was immediately dragging me into the crowd. “You’re hasty.”  
“The sooner we are done, the sooner we are gone,” she muttered. She grimaced at some people shaking hands. “I don’t get it. All the touching.” Considering you had my arm firmly in an iron grip, Morrigan, I didn’t think you could talk. “What’s the point of it?”  
“I’m told it’s considered polite,” I answered, hunting through the stalls for things that would be useful. “Is that a burn kit there?”  
“Tis so. Let us grab it.” We made our way over. “How is it polite to grab one’s hand and not make it obvious what your intent is?”   
“Why are you asking the Dalish elf? I know less about humans than you growing up with Asha’Bellanar.” Actually, I might know more, but it was fun to tease her like this. Her scowl nearly made me laugh. “Talk to Aiden, Elspeth, or Nuada about it.”  
“Aiden will simper, Elspeth will give me the most technical explanation possible, and Nuada will laugh.” Aiden would not simper. I couldn’t fault her for thinking that about the others, though. “We’re here.”  
“We are.” Using my free hand, I picked up the burn kit, and a few poultices I saw, and handed them to the seller. He handed me a note with the amount they were all worth, and I handed him some coins I thought were enough. The fact that I got some back told me that they probably too much. Still, I had the items, and that was important. “This money makes little sense to me.”  
“To me as well.” She giggled and helped me put up the purchases in my bag. “Another thing we have in common.” Oh my. Distraction time.   
“You think that’s going to be all we get?” I asked. She huffed, but nodded. “Yeah, most of the medical stuff has to be gone now.” We’d likely have to make our own, unless we got lucky in some shops. “We have plenty of bandages, right?” We had to. Every time we’d passed someone selling them, we’d snatched them up. “So, let’s go meet the others.”  
“Very well.” And the grip on my arm tightened as she steered me back out of the crowd. “They shan’t be long, I’m sure.” She grinned and leaned a little towards me. “So…”  
However, my attention was caught by the man in the cage not far away and my instincts screamed at me to ask. So, ignoring Morrigan, I snagged a passing farmer by the arm. “Hey, what’s the deal with him?” I asked, keeping my face angled downward. As hard as it was, we didn’t need anyone throwing their lives at us. “Seems like a strange thing.”  
“He’s being left for the darkspawn,” the farmer answered easily. I felt myself pale and grow sick. The Taint… if he didn’t die by the horde, then that Taint… “He murdered a whole family, down to the last child.” Wha…? “Won’t give a reason why. So, he’s there.”   
“I see.” I forced a smile. “Ma… thanks.” No, no elvish here. A Dalish in these parts would be too suspicious.  
“No worries.” The farmer gave me a carefree smile and walked into the main part of the village. I watched him go, feeling myself shake. I glanced at my hand and slowly opened and closed it into a fist, reassuring myself that, yes, I could move. The Taint… that had been terrifying. Even the memory, now, made it hard to breath. They would so willingly condemn someone to such a fate? If he wasn’t torn about and eaten by the darkspawn?  
Even for a murderer, that was too high a punishment. There was no justice in it. What lows would shemlen not go for petty vengeance?  
“To leave such locked and trapped in a cage is ridiculous.” Morrigan’s scoff caught me by surprise. I turned to face her, but she was looking at the man, not me. “How merciful the Chantry is, to condemn him to death without dirtying their hands directly.” She rolled her eyes and looked at me. “Do you think we can get him out?”   
“You’re suggesting freeing him?” I asked incredulously. I couldn’t help smiling slightly in confused amusement. “In broad daylight. Where everyone can see us. When we’re laying low.”  
“Freedom is a gift all should have.” She immediately got a thoughtful look on her face. “We could leave Alistair there in his place.”  
“Hey, be nice.” She scowled. “You don’t have to get along, but let’s not suggest things like that.”  
“I suppose.” She leaned towards me, a sly smile replacing the scowl. “Well, perhaps we can talk about other things.”  
“Liiiike…?” I had a damn good feeling considering earlier, but it was more fun to be oblivious.  
Especially when Layla appeared right then, looking at us in confusion. “Is everything all right?” she asked. She looked even more confused as Morrigan scowled and I laughed. “Um…?”  
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassured, reaching under her hood to ruffle her hair. She squeaked and pouted at me. “Is Aiden near?” In response, she pointed and I saw Aiden heading our way. “All right. Let’s get back to camp then.”  
Morrigan and I could play the game later. When I had more time to think on whether I wanted to play or not.

* * *

We all returned and did triple checks of all the equipment we had. Alistair tested out his make-shift armor, not the best but not the worse, and pronounced it ‘wonderful’ even though I was relatively certain it didn’t fit him perfectly. However, in our slight haste to prepare everything for leaving, we forgot to grab food for tonight. So, I volunteered to head out and pick up something. Leliana came with me.  
“I must say, being around you has opened my eyes to how wrong some of the tales about the Dalish are,” Leliana told me out of the blue as we approached the village again. I gave her a questioning look, wondering what prompted her to say that. “You are not at all savage.” Well, that was wonderful to hear. “And I’ve not seen you snatch up women and children without provocation.” …Wait, what?   
I couldn’t help but snicker at that. “Why would they say anything like that?”  
“Something about needing children, I think?”  
“We are quite capable of producing our own without shemlen help, thank you. Some of us highly enjoy the process.” She giggled. “Besides, many of us have no want to interact with shemlen.”   
“That isn’t good.” She hummed in thought. “There’s so much we can learn from each other, yes? At least dispel the misconceptions.” Whoo, boy, someone was an idealist. All well and good, but there was no way that was going to happen in our lifetime. We had a higher chance of getting a homeland again. “I hear many city folk talk about how much more wonderful a simpler life would be.” What. “To live so close to the earth…”  
“To hunt for their food and travel until their feet ache to bring back enough to feed everyone?” My voice was dry, harsh even. “To always triple checking the aravels because they’re our only protection against the rain and cold? To having to learn all the edible plants in an area because one poisonous plant could devastate everyone?” I turned to face her full on. Her eyes were wide, and her face pale. “To wonder if someone will burn down the entire forest, just to chase you out?” She ducked her head, breaking eye contact. “I loved that life. I loved it completely. I was happy. But don’t you dare care it simple. It was work, hard work. Don’t reduce my people to fit your simple ideas.”  
“I’m… I’m sorry.” …I hadn’t actually expected an apology. “I hadn’t realized… well, you’d think I should, but I suppose… oh, I did it again.” She sighed heavily, head still down. “Aiden is still mad at me for earlier.” Wait, had she said something similar to this to him? No wonder he’d been pissed off enough to show it. “I had never realized how… how fetishized the elven servants I had seen were. How they were trapped just as much…” She tentatively looked up at me. “I’m sorry.”  
“Stop apologizing.” I was uncomfortable now. “Just… just ask. Try not to make assumptions.”  
“I will.” She smiled, looking relieved. “Thank you for correcting me.” STOP BEING WEIRD. “And do let me know if I make the same mistakes again. I’m sure there are old habits I’m not even aware of.” This was so weird and… and what was that sound? “So…”  
I held up my hand to cut her off, head tilting to one side automatically as I tried to identify where the sound was coming from. Soon, though, I realized it wasn’t an actual sound, but rather a sense slithering through my mind. A whisper in my head. Buzzing, buzzing. I knew this. I knew this feeling. I’d heard it before. “Leliana, get the others,” I ordered as I connected the dots. “Darkspawn are near.” Was there way to tell how many there are?   
“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” she promised me. She clapped me on the shoulder and bolted. I took a moment to marvel at her speed, never seeing such in a shemlen, before shaking my head and turning for the village.  
But the man in the cage caught my eye, and some instinct told me to go to him. “Can you fight?” He blinked at me slowly, watching me like the hawk watches the mouse. “Can you kill things other than defenseless children and farmers?” I asked, putting a trace of mockery in my voice.  
“Ah, so you do know the crime.” His voice was soft, low, and carried an accent I couldn’t place. “Why come to me?”  
“Darkspawn are coming.”  
“Ah, then my atonement will be soon.” He seemed completely nonchalant about it. “Leave.”  
“No.” I leaned forward, one hand gripping the bars. “Find your atonement in a fight.”  
“Why?”  
“I’m a Warden.” His eyes widened slightly, and I pressed on, my instincts urging me to be quick. “Fight with me. The Blight…”  
“…Very well.” That… was easy? Wait, why did he agree so quickly. “I will follow you, Warden.” Very casually, he stood and kicked open the door. He’d… been in there by choice. The whole time. “My atonement will be in the Blight.” And here I hoped to all the Creators that my instincts were true and not Fen’harel playing a horrible trick on me.  
“Take this.” I tossed him one of my daggers. It looked almost comically small in his hands. “Return it when you find a weapon better suited to you.” The whispers were louder. “We need to run.” He just nodded. “Let’s go.”  
He followed me easily, straight through the crowd of screaming people, so I was sure he could probably overtake me if he chose, if only more having longer strides. But he waited as I leapt forward to tear the throat of a darkspawn threatening two children. I almost asked what he was doing, but then he casually picked up the children, handed them to some terrified people, picked up the weapon the darkspawn had been using (a greatsword), and handed me back my dagger. “You should not weaken yourself to give strength to another,” he informed me. He swung the giant sword, easily the same size as me, with one hand before nodding. “A good substitute.” Oh.   
I tried to think of what to say, but came up with nothing. Then, an arrow flew over my shoulder to strike another darkspawn and I turned, expecting Elspeth. To my surprise, though, it was Diana, the mage girl who’d helped us with the tents. “Your friends are delayed by the efforts to get the refugees out of the area, Warden,” she told me. I wasn’t surprised she’d figured it out. What other sort of idiot charges darkspawn? “I’m hoping you released the big guy, by the way. Chantry sisters are in a fit.” I shrugged, not caring, and she grinned. “Well, can’t say it’s not funny.”  
“Why are you here?” I asked her. “Why not run with the others?”  
“I’m not helpless.” And she wore the cocky grin of someone who never had been. “So, why not help out?” Well, I couldn’t fault her logic, even if it was a little simplistic. “I’ll move on your orders, if you’d like. You seem like the smart sort.” Really? Well, that was a shock. “So?”  
“Provide covering firing for me and…” I didn’t know that man’s name. I turned to ask, but he’d already gone to fight a nearby darkspawn, fighting more fluidly than Aiden. “And big guy.” She nodded. “Just until my group gets here, though. Then you fall back to guard the rear of the civilians.”  
“Sounds good to me.” She grinned and drew an arrow from her quiver with a flourish. “And, yes, I’ll fall back if I run out of arrows.” I was half-tempted to ask about magic, but now probably wasn’t a good time for that. “Stay steady.”  
“And you.” And into the fight. With ripping through the nearest darkspawn a little too easily. What was this? I didn’t remember them being this weak in Ostagar. Did I somehow get stronger? …No. No, I was sure of it. I was weak as ever. These ones just matched my weakness. Were they holding back, or were they just the clean-up crew?  
I suppose it didn’t matter. I had to kill them all anyway. That was the job of a hunter. And only the overconfident hunter went after the strongest unless he had no other choice. Still, it was sad how easy it was. Why couldn’t it have been this easy back then? Maybe then… maybe then Shem-King Cailan and Duncan would still be alive?  
“Never a dull day, huh?” Aiden was at my back. I recognized the familiar warmth. “Sorry for not getting here sooner,” he told me. I just shook my head, feeling some exhaustion creeping in at the pause. “It looks like we’ve got them well under control, though.” Yeah, even though we would all be covered in blood over it. Having lots of competent fighters and few weak enemies did wonders. “A few stragglers caught some civilians, but the templars took care of them easily.” Good to know. “Diana has fallen back, with Elspeth and Leliana taking her place in covering fire.” I blinked up at the sky and saw twice as many arrows as I’d expect arcing over our heads. “You good or should you fall back?”  
“I’m fine,” I told him. I heard him sigh. “Look, I’m better at the phrase than a certain noble who shall not be named at this time.”  
“Yes, yes. I’m joining Alistair.”  
“Where’s Layla?”  
“Layla is using her wards to keep the darkspawn from following the civilians.” Ah. “Morrigan is nearby, casting spells. Nuada is guarding them both.” Good. “Don’t die. You survived Ostagar, so you can’t die here.”  
“Same to you.” And back into the fray. Spinning, twisting, lunging. Daggers biting down again and again. Blood everywhere. If it started raining, it would be almost exactly like Ostagar. But there was no rain this time. Just horridly warm sunshine laughing overhead. Was it enjoying itself? Encouraging me to call on the power of his eldest to continue destroying all these things?  
With these strange, tired thoughts bouncing through my head, I hunted around for the next target, the next thing I had to kill. But I found nothing and crouched down as fatigue hit me. I still wasn’t fully recovered from Ostagar, and I’d fought too hard against these things, huh? That was stupid. I could hear Hahren Paivel scolding me.  
“That’s the last of them for now.” I looked up and saw a bloody Nuada leaning over me, eyes concerned. “You need to lean?” he asked, shifting to better offer his shoulder. I thought about waving it off, but lightheaded dizziness I experienced upon straightening made me grab onto him anyway. “I’ll carry you, if you’d like.”  
“You can’t carry me with that wound on your stomach,” I pointed out. Still, it was a relief to not have my full weight on my feet.  
“Oh, I’m fine.”  
“Like I’m believing you. Traveling on that wound with no one knowing.”  
“Morrigan knew; I’d have you know.” And obviously hadn’t done a good job keeping track of it. Which he knew. “Fine, fine. I won’t hide injuries anymore, even when I’m sure it’s not a big deal.” THAT HAD BEEN A BIG DEAL! “Is that to your satisfaction?”  
“Greatly.” This time when I tried to stand up fully, my head didn’t protest. “The others?”  
“Confirming dead darkspawn, checking if any of the civilians attacked are still breathing and giving mercy kills, or tending to the ones who’d managed to escape.” He pointed to the side, and I saw Alistair and Leliana wandering the field. Aiden wasn’t far away, shaking a body. Layla, Elspeth, and Morrigan must be with the others. What about the big guy? Was he too? Diana? “I told them I’d get you.” Better to ask later. I had only enough energy to focus on one thing at a time. “Where do you want to be?” Huh? Oh, for the aftermath.  
“Other than bed?” That startled a laugh out of him. “Best to check those civilians. If there’s the Taint…” I shuddered. “I’ll mercy kill them. I know…”  
“Yeah, you won’t hesitate. You know better than any of us how bad it is.” There was something in Nuada’s wan smile, but I couldn’t place it. “I’ll help you with that.”  
“You don’t need to.”  
“It won’t be the first.” And that sentence held far more than I knew he’d admit to. “Lean on me. We’ll go check.”  
“Right.”

* * *

By Mythal’s grace, as I really couldn’t think of any other way it could have happens, only twenty people died, including the thirteen Nuada and I had to mercy-kill. We’d run around scrambling to help all the wounded, reassure the survivors, and the like and found ourselves called before Ser Bryant all before we even had a chance to clean ourselves up. Not that all of us went. Only Nuada, Alistair, and me did. The rest went to breakdown our own camp.  
“I thank you, greatly, for what you did for us,” he began, facing us with a salute and tired smile. He had blood freckling his face and armor, showing he’d been in the fighting too, somewhere. “Truly, we would have lost more without you.” This was all well and good, but could we go jump in a lake, at least. “However, I must ask you to leave.” Huh? I mean; we were planning on doing that anyway, but…  
“We know,” Nuada spoke up. As usual, he had a smile on his face, looking like nothing in the world could phase him. I’d be more annoyed, but I remember how his hand had shook when killing that three-year-old who’d been too badly hurt to save, even with magic. Let him smile, if it didn’t break him. “The army and bounty hunters will hear of us.” Oh. Then Lothering would be overrun, with the darkspawn coming and… not good at all.   
“Ser, you must get the people of Lothering out of here quickly,” Alistair spoke up then. I was surprised by this, especially given how uncomfortable he looked, but he continued resolutely, even if he was talking more to the floor. “That was just the tip of the vanguard. More are coming. I can sense it.” Now that I thought about it, we hadn’t even faced one ogre here. “And these were just the weakest. Grunts and apprentices.” Damn.  
“I understand,” Ser Bryant murmured. He sighed heavily. “I’ll… do what I can to speed things up.” Why would they stay? They’d die if they did. “Now go, quickly. And may the Maker watch over you.” Yeah, the last time I heard people pray to the Maker, everyone died. The Maker didn’t have the excuse of being locked up like our Creators.  
Still, that was as much as a dismissal as any and, following Nuada’s lead, we bowed and headed out the back without a word. When we actually exited, though, we had to stop and stare. Diana was standing there, holding a couple of packs. “This is what everyone scrounged up for you all,” she explained, tossing them to Nuada, since he was closest. I was pleased to see him looking just as confused as Alistair and me. “There’s an old hunting trail to the east. It runs right down the main road, but it’s surrounded by the nearby forest, so you can’t be seen.” Perfect for setting up our next camp, then. And we’d have to rest quickly. “I told the rest of your group already. They’re waiting for you at the edge of town.” Ah. “Be careful.” She raced off before we could even think of replies.  
“You know; things like this remind me of why so many sacrifice a lot for the world,” Nuada noted. He peeked inside the pack with a smile. “Scrounged up, huh? You don’t scrounge up cookies.” I glanced and noticed a lot of things that looked like they’d been made, quickly, for us. “Well, I’ll keep this tucked away for darker times.” You mean this wasn’t one? “Alistair, what are you doing by that rose bush?”  
“Huh?” I nearly laughed at just how awkwardly sheepish Alistiar was at getting caught. “I’m not doing anything!” he yelped, flushing. I bit the inside of my mouth hard to keep the straight face. Nuada looked like his grin was going to split his face. “I… oh, why do I bother?” He sighed and held up a very pretty rose. “The darkspawn will just destroy it, but it’s lovely.” He smiled softly as he looked at it. “A bright beautiful spot in the despair, you know?”  
“Well, hide it in your pack,” I suggested. “Morrigan might do something just to spite you.”   
“Don’t I know it?” He sighed and tucked it carefully in his bag. “Shall we?”  
I wanted a bath. “Yeah, unless Nuada has a protest?” Surprisingly, Nuada shook his head without even taking the opportunity for a joke. Well then. “Okay.”  
The refugees let us pass without a word. Some looked at us in fear, and others in hope. I wasn’t sure which was worse. Had they jumped on our group while the three of us had been in the Chantry? I hoped not. We were all tired.  
So tired, in fact, that we barely even waved when we reached the others on the outskirts, with everything all packed up. All of them looked wet. I wondered if they’d actually jumped into a lake to get the main part off, but decided it didn’t really matter given how quickly we all were moving. I was surprised to see the big guy with us, though, easily carrying the bags Leliana handed to him as he walked after Aiden and Morrigan, who were leading the way now that we were all together. I know I’d said to fight the Blight for atonement, but I was surprised to see him have taken it so seriously. I didn’t even give him my name, or get his.  
“He’s called Sten.” I looked up and saw Elspeth handing me a damp cloth to wipe down with. Wonderful. My skin was beginning to crawl. A quick glance showed she’d already handed towels off to Nuada and Alistair too. “He’s of the Beresaad, the Vanguard of the Qunari,” she told me. What was a ‘qunari’? “He says you ordered him to follow?”  
“I needed help,” I defended, pressing the cloth against my neck. My muscles were starting to protest the fight now, and it did little to make me not sound pouty. “He… seemed like help.”  
“I’m simply confirming, not judging.” She had a small smile on her face. “We will have to snatch some armor for him.”  
“Have Leliana do it.” She was probably the only one who could return at this point.  
“I shall recommend that to Aiden, then.” She nodded. “Are you well?”  
“Not noticing anything but muscle pain yet.” I shrugged. “Layla will probably scold me, but let’s just get the armor and follow that path fast.”  
“Very well.” She scampered off and I returned my gaze to the village we were leaving behind, frowning as I was overcome with the sense of panic and dread.  
Despite the victory here, this village… wasn’t going to survive, was it? That’s how all the fights would be, until we ended the Blight. So, no more time for rest. No more time for trying to figure out what happened at Ostagar. No more time for mourning the dead. We had to move. We were the only ones left who could do something.  
Right. No pressure there. Fen’harel, I hated your tricks.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Just a little thing that took FOREVER to write. Hints of the destruction to come. Sten joins, yay! No, I didn’t make up those convos with Leliana. Reference to the Alistair romance. Made mention of how when you fight your way out of Lothering in DA2, all of the darkspawn are marked as grunts and apprentices. Morrigan making the moves on Cleon… just a little thing. That took forever to write. I’m sorry.  
> Next Chapter – Moving on with Layla


	37. Chapter 33) Split Paths

Chapter 33) Split Paths

Layla POV

* * *

"Wynne?" I sobbed, still shaking, one hand on the walls as I walked. "Irving?" I left the dorms to keep from waking people up, but now I couldn't stop crying and, worse, I couldn't find someone. "Someone?"

"What in Andraste's…?" Through my blurry vision, I see Knight-Commander Greagoir jogging down the hall. "It's… Layla, right? You're one of the new ones." I nodded, rubbing at my eyes to get rid of the tears. But they kept coming. "What are you doing up? It's long past lights out for the apprentices."

"I had a bad dream!" My voice wobbled. "It was so scary! I felt him choking me! So… So I wanted to find Wynne or Irving, but…!" Fresh tears streamed down my face. "I can't find them!"

"That… would be because you took a wrong turn." A warm hand awkwardly ruffled my hair and then strong arms picked me up. "Come on. I'll get you to Irving. So, stop crying. You're safe now."

"O-okay…"

* * *

I should not have taken that nap.

I had burst into a cold sweat, my body was paralyzed, a scream lodged in my throat, and my eyes burned with unshed tears. That dream… no, that nightmare… I had known it was a dream from the beginning, of course. All mages were lucid dreamers. But this had been a dream I had not been able to control, and that had been absolutely terrifying. I could still feel the green mist coiling around my arms, feel the heat of thousands of torches, hear the echoing roar of whatever that creature had been. It had looked like a dragon, but it had been far darker, sharper, harder than anything I'd read about.

"Are you awake now?" A gentle hand turned me onto my back and I could only stare wide-eyed at Nuada as he peered into my face. "It looks like it hit you bad," he murmured, brushing some of the hair out of my sweaty face. The gesture was both soothing and confusing. "That dragon like thing you likely saw was the Archdemon, by the way." WE HAD TO FIGHT THAT THING?! "Can you move?" I tested with my hands and, finding my fingers responsive, I carefully pushed myself up. That was when I noticed I was shaking. "You up for some soup?" My stomach was in absolute knots, but the thought of holding something warm was comforting, so I nodded. "I'll get it for you." He smiled, and I wondered why he was so nice to me now. I had been so certain he hated me for some reason, back when he refused to let me help him. "I'll be right back. Alistair is coming up behind you." I turned and saw he was right. But Alistair was clearly waiting to be invited over.

So, I waved him closer, still afraid of speaking. He all but fell to my side and tugged me into a hug, and I leaned my head on his comforting shoulder as Nuada left for the campfire not far away. "All Wardens have dreams like that," Alistair explained. I wished someone had told me that sooner. "That's how we know this is a Blight." I didn't ask why they didn't explain that to non-Wardens. I had a feeling the answer would just depress me further. "Ah, Leliana, perfect timing." I sat up straight again as Leliana crouched next to me, and pressed a bowl into my hands. "Nuada pass the job to you?"

"Yes, he figured it would be better to find Aiden and Cleon," she explained. She noticed my trembling and helped me steady the bowl. "Do you need help eating?" I shook my head. I had no intentions of eating quite yet. "All right."

"If Aiden and Cleon are coming in, that means a change in watch," Alistair noted. Carefully, he stood up, resting a comforting hand on my head. "So, that means Sten and I are up."

"I can take your place. I think they'll want to discuss-"

"No, no, the only other job is cooking and, trust me, we don't want me cooking!" Alistair laughed freely and a hint of resentment went through me. He was the senior Warden. Why was he running away from helping us make decision?! But, of course, I said nothing as he headed off. I watched him leave, noticing how that Sten person was glaring at me before he left with Alistair. He didn't seem to like anyone but Elspeth and Cleon, and I wasn't even certain of that. He was quieter than even the most stoic templars.

"Well, back to cooking with Morrigan," Leliana noted. I could only stare as she stretched up, flashed me a smile, and returned to the campfire. Morrigan was glaring at a pot hanging over the flames; I assumed it was still full of soup. Elspeth was near them, mending what seemed to be a shirt.

It was so quiet, I finally noticed. It made sense. We were quite a ways away from Lothering, or so it seemed by my still aching feet, and no one was really talking to one another. There was the crackling of firewood, and I thought there were a few insects and rodents scuffling about, but that was it. It was… unnerving. The Tower had always been filled with sounds, and the trip down to Ostagar had lots of talking. But, then again, Commander Duncan had initiated a lot of the nighttime talks and he was… he was…

"Did Alistair choose to not switch with Leliana for the watch?" Shaking my head, I looked up to see Nuada, Cleon, and Aiden walking to me. "Then again, he is a horrible cook," Nuada continued, sitting at my feet as Aiden sat to my right and Cleon to my left. Cleon immediately scooted so I could rest my head on his shoulder, an opportunity I took quickly. "You remember that strange grey mush, Layla?" The memory of Alistair's disastrous cooking attempt made me smile, if only slightly. "I swear that stuff was as potent as an Antivan poison."

"Taking you at your word," Cleon sighed. He dropped two papers down on my lap. "That's two of them." I wondered what he was talking about before remembering when I'd last seen them. These were the treaties. "Aiden has the third."

"Elspeth handed us the one she kept safe while we were making this camp," Aiden murmured as he set down the last one. I wasn't sure why he told us that. Maybe it was just to talk. "So, here we are."

"Well, let's be realistic and note that we are going to have to split up," Nuada began, all cheer quieting for the seriousness. I just studied the three papers, reading what bits I could see. "Normally, I'd say just split the group in three, but…"

"Even as a Dalish, I'd have to disagree," Cleon retorted, waving his hands as if to wipe away the thought. The treaties were really old. There were bits of yellow around the edges. But the writing was pretty. It was all spirals and fine lines, as if the writers were making it a work of art. "That bastard has people after us."

"And if we were ambushed by anyone, a small group might not be able to get away fast enough. Yes, I know. That's why I said 'normally'." Wait, did that say…?

"Is that one for the Circle?" I interrupted, voice soft and raspy. I set the bowl to the side and picked up the treaty. I smiled at the familiar symbol sketched in the corner. "It is. Let's go there first." I could go home!

"I'd actually argue the Dalish first, if we're not splitting up now," Cleon argued. I turned to pout at him, but he shook his head. "Dalish are nomadic. I have ideas of where Clans are now, but that might not be the case in even a few days." Ah… but…

"The Tower might not be going anywhere, Cleon, but the mages might." I could only stare in shock as Nuada defended my request. He even looked serious about it, though my tired mind found itself wondering how he could sit so straight without a chair backing him. Cleon had similar good posture. Aiden and I, however, slumped slightly. "Loghain or Anora could call on the mages to help them, and then they'll be caught up in politics when better suited elsewhere," he continued. "There's an argument for both."

"If… if that's the case, then perhaps a small group to the Tower?" Aiden hesitantly suggested. He flinched when all three of us looked at him. "It's j-just…"

"We know, but it's probably the best way, lethallin," Cleon interrupted, waving his hand in front of him again. "Layla will head to the Tower, and I'll head to the Brecilian Forest." I was very thankful to not have to go anywhere near that place again. "How should we split the others?" Wait, we were going to decide for them? I… wasn't sure how comfortable I was with that.

"I'd better head to the Tower with Layla, unless you two have a good reason for me not to," Nuada declared. I stared at him a moment before slumping a little further. He confused me so much. "I highly doubt a human noble, Warden or not, will be a welcome sight."

"Would a city elf?" Aiden asked Cleon. Cleon opened his mouth, shut it and tilted his head to the side in thought, and then finally nodded. "I take it there are some clans who aren't?"

"Some do and some don't," Cleon answered awkwardly. I placed my hand on his and he smiled at me. "I've met more that do, but having been away from the Clan, I find it hard to say whether we're in the majority or not."

"Then I'll head with you. Please take no offense, Mistress Layla, but even for the chance to see my cousin again will I go near the templars who took her away." He suddenly colored. "I… that wasn't… um…" Did he not mean to say that? Nuada looked amused by it. "R-regardless, Morrigan should also come with us. We might get away with calling her Warden or recruit, but…" It was far better to not even get the opportunity.

"Elspeth and I think Sten views magic as… distasteful, so it'll probably be better for him to come with the Dalish group." Was that why he seemed to disapprove of Morrigan and me? "Alistair will probably just go with whatever. He has for everything else." Cleon's tone implied he didn't exactly approve of that. "Nuada? What of Elspeth?" Obviously, she would want to go with Nuada, right? They were-

"She'll head with you," Nuada answered. All three of us stared at him. "…You three are acting like Elspeth and I are joined at the hip." Considering that we had all spent a significant time thinking the others were dead…! "Elspeth will far better enjoy seeing the Dalish and their traditions compared to seeing yet another Circle." At my questioning look, he smiled wryly. "We visited for the diplomatic reasons while abroad." He had been abroad? "You're all looking at me weirdly."

"I had heard Teyrn Cousland served as a diplomat for King Maric for around ten years," Aiden began slowly. Cleon and I exchanged a look and shrugged at the information. "I hadn't realized you visited him so much, my lord."

"I didn't." Huh? "I traveled with him." Ah! "Mother didn't feel comfortable letting him go without her, and she certainly wasn't going to leave us three behind." His smile seemed decidedly bitter, even though his posture was relaxed and poised. "I've only lived half my life here in Fereldan. Antiva is a wonderful place to spend your early years, though." Somehow… I thought he was being sarcastic, but I could not think of why. "Regardless, that leaves Leliana, right? And wherever Alistair will go. Personally, I'd recommend Dalish. He doesn't seem all that comfortable with his templar past."

"Since Leliana should go with you and Layla, I'd welcome the additional person," Cleon answered. Both Nuada and I looked confused, and he and Aiden exchanged a look that screamed volumes. "Leliana is… uh…" Strangely, he seemed to not be able to find the words he wanted.

So, Aiden finished the sentence for him. "She's vocal in accidental prejudices." Nuada started chuckling. "Is there something wrong, my lord?"

"That has to be the nicest way I've heard of saying she's a bigot," he explained with a small smile. She was? But Leliana was so nice. "That's all."

"I see, my lord." Aiden tentatively smiled back. "Regardless, is that… everyone?" The three of us nodded. "Then I suppose we inform them?" He looked uncomfortable suddenly. "Assuming, of course, they don't think we're being heavy handed, deciding while they're doing chores."

"It's not like they came over to weigh in," Cleon pointed out, a slight edge to his words as he finally stood up and stretched. "And it had to be obvious what we were doing." I supposed that could be true? "What do we do about that last treaty?"

"One of us will simply carry it?" Aiden looked at Nuada, but Nuada just smiled and shrugged. "I… suppose that's all there is to it."

"I'll carry it, if you'd like," Nuada offered as he stood up as well. "But we'll have to keep it extra safe. The dwarves… well, their politics reminded me a lot of the Orlesian Court and it's Game." Despite the word, I doubted this 'game' was all that fun. "Physical proof might help us cut through some of the bullshit."

"I understand, my lord." Aiden turned to me with a small smile. "Your soup has likely grown cold, Mistress Layla." I… had forgotten about it. In fact, all the talk had even made me forget I was sitting on the hard ground, a blanket still covering my legs. "Shall I fetch you a fresh bowl?"

"No, I am well," I reassured, picking up the bowl to eat the soup. Even lukewarm, it was delicious and comforting. Then again, excitement had made me hungry, and Neria once told me that hunger was the best spice for food. "Please, do not concern yourself." In fact, excitement nearly made me bounce in my seat.

I was going back to the Tower. I could go back home. I could hug Irving and cry over everything that happened. I could get advice! We could get supplies! Someone else could take charge!

Everything would be wonderful and peaceful there! I could not wait to see everyone again!

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All right. We're finally reaching the end of the 'prologue' section of the game. Yes, splitting up. …It's slightly easier to handle so many characters this way. Slightly. (I will note that if a character appears to be fading into the background, PLEASE let me know. I might not even notice) Not a lot going on here, short chapter, sorry.
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Morrigan. Last chapter before the main game begins. Promise.


	38. Interlude - Child of the Wilds

Interlude – Child of the Wilds

* * *

Why, oh why, did the fate of Thedas have to rest in the hands of imbeciles? She wishes it were otherwise. After all, considering what she needed to do… well, everything would've been easier if there were less do-gooder and more pragmatic.

She hides a sigh as she tends to her own fire, separate from the others, thinking. Her mother had prepared her for this. She doesn't think she is ready for the… for the everything, but this is it. She will follow the ritual, and then a piece of the old magic will come back. She smiles a little at the thought. The ancient magics, lost to time, returning to the world and making it a little less mundane… that is one of her greatest, if childish, wishes. It is a desire she keeps close to her heart.

Remembering her intentions, she returns to studying the group. She ignores the women; the ritual can only work with a man, after all. Sadly, it also involves a Warden, meaning that she can only play with the interesting creature that is Sten. Still, it could be worse, she supposes. After all, she has a pick of four.

Granted, she would truly have to be desperate to go after Alistair. Templar trained, and sniveling in his belief of being the knight, even though she can see the shadows in his eyes and heart. How idiotic could he be, to still hold onto such naiveties when it was obvious even to a child he had suffered for his weak notions.

Aiden is another who annoys her. Too much control, too much groveling. She had thought he might be like the mighty oak tree, but instead he is nothing but a willow, bending and sinking, never taking a step without checking over his shoulder three hundred times. It baffles her.

Nuada… is not a bad second choice, she supposes. He is aware of her mother, after all, and aware of how many of the old magics require bargains and prices. But his insistence on the mask is as aggravating as Alistair and Aiden. A mask so well worn that is it almost impossible to tell when he is wearing it and when he isn't. Masks are used to hide what is underneath, and not even she is curious enough to find out what darkness lies behind the smile. She would leave that to stubborn, naïve Layla. Let her crash and burn in the dark, she cares not.

So, that leaves her instincts to be correct. Cleon is clearly her best choice. Aware of the older magics, aware of her mother, yet also has none of the shadows the other three have. Separated from his only life, he would also be easier prey to lull into something fun and enticing. Something she would be able to use later, when it came time to reveal the Ritual. The fact that he is so handsome is, of course, merely a bonus for her. Yes, she could feign interest quite easily for someone who looked like that. She just has to play the game and…

"Morrigan?" Startled, she looks up and finds Elspeth next to her, holding a steaming cup in hand. She wonders how the young noble could sneak up on her, who is used to the Wilds, but dismisses the thought quickly. It wouldn't do to show anything but calm confidence in a situation like this. Her mother had taught her well. "I brought you some tea," Elspeth whispers, head tilted down. "It'll help you sleep." She knows she doesn't need the help, but finds herself reaching for the cup anyway. It's ceramic, and warm to the touch. "Let me know if you want it made differently, please."

"Why go through that trouble?" The question escapes her mouth before she can think twice about it.

"I imagine it is a great deal less trouble than what you and mother went through to save those three." She highly doubts her mother finds anything troubling. "I know how my brother can be." Yes, that's right. Elspeth is twin to Nuada, the younger of the two. Calm, still water to her brother's laughing wind, and she tries to remember a line in a book she read about winds and storms and still waters running deep. "It is also a show of appreciation." Elspeth does not look her in the face, but at the ground as she talks, and she cannot help but compare it to Leliana, singing and laughing even with the blood in her scent, and Layla, bright and fiery like the sun. "You did not have to help us further with this. So, you have my thanks."

"What would you do if I said Mother and I had ulterior motives?" She probably shouldn't have said that, but, again, the words slip out before she can think twice. She is caught off-guard and it takes her too long to think straight.

"Does not everyone?" She could not find a reply to that. "It does not change that I am thankful." Elspeth gives her a small smile and she doesn't know what to do with it, so she looks at the tea. It's a pleasant color, even in the darkness. "Pleasant dreams, Morrigan."

She waits until she hears the footsteps leaving before looking up again, eyes narrowing as she surveys the group once more. They… confuse her. Not that she would admit it to anyone but herself, but they do.

Maybe there is more to the world than what her mother taught her after all.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So, here we go. A dip into Morrigan's head!
> 
> Next Chapter – Into the Woods with Aiden (I apologize, it's a traveling chapter.)


	39. Chapter 34) Into the Woods

Chapter 34) Into the Woods

Aiden POV

* * *

_"We really shouldn't be up here," I murmured. But even as I said the words, I climbed after my cousin. "Hahren is going to get mad at us." Again._

_"Aiden, come on!" Neria laughed. High over my head, she hung off a branch upside down by her knees, reaching her hand out to me. "Higher! Higher!"_

_"I'm not covering if we get caught." Still, I climbed higher. Always did. She always pushed, and I always strove to meet her expectation. "Serious, Neria."_

_"Yeah, yeah!" But she kept on laughing and smiling. "Let's strive for the stars! I want to pluck them!"_

_"Impossible."_

_"Meanie!" But she was still all smiles as I came level with her, hidden from below by the leaves and branches. "Always go for the sky!"_

_"I like my feet on the ground." But I could maybe get used to being among the leaves for her. Maybe._

* * *

The Brecilian Forest. A place I had only heard of, and never expected to see. And yet, here I was. Sitting under the trees near where we made camp for the evening. Cleon said we were close to a Dalish Clan, so it should only be a couple more days before we got the help we needed for the Blight.

Shaking my head, I sat up from where I'd laid down and surveyed the group. Over near the tents, I watched Alistair give Lady Elspeth a flower, one she accepted with a small smile. From here, I guessed it to be a white carnation, but I wasn't quite certain. I was never expected to actually learn the names of flowers. I just picked it up after delivering so many messages involving them. And seeing such messages delivered. Regardless, Alistair looked a little shy handing it over. Was it just because of the gift or…? No, it was probably just that.

It was hard to mistake Morrigan's flirtations towards Cleon as anything but that, yet Cleon was rather good at pretending otherwise. Though, I had also seen him play back, every once in a while, to set Morrigan off-balance. I wasn't sure if he was trying to frustrate her to get her to back off, or frustrate her to make her jump him, but I really hoped he knew what he was doing. At least the two didn't let it interfere with cooking.

That left Sten, the quietest and most enigmatic of our companions. I couldn't see him at all.

"Aiden." That was apparently because he was right behind me and how did someone so large sneak up on me?! "Here." As I twisted to stare at him with wide eyes, he dropped a large pole in my lap. He carried one similar. Where did we even get one of those, much less two? "Spar with me." Wait, what?

"Sten, why do you want to spar?" He didn't answer me. He just swung down his long pole and I had to role quickly out of the way. "Hey!" He swung again and I twisted to grab the pole he'd given me and clumsily blocked his attack. "What did I do?!"

"Enough." Another swing. I dodged again, desperately looking around for help. No one was paying attention. Damn it. "Fight."

"Look, if I offended you, I'm sorry?" I blocked another attack and stumbled as he shoved me back. "Can we just talk-?" And that swing might've taken off my head if we were dealing with sharp objects. "…I guess not…" What did I miss to cause this to happen?!

"Is this all you can do?" he demanded. I just focused on not getting knocked out. "Is this all an elf can do?" I… what? "Are you like the rabbits humans call you?" That tended to be an Orlesian thing? It still pissed me off. "Prey that the rest of the world feeds on because you die from fear?" Hey! "Excelling only in living in squalor?" Enough all ready! This was pointless! "Pathetic." ENOUGH ALREADY!

"What do you know!?" The works forced themselves out in a roar and I found myself swinging the damn pole as hard as I could. Sten blocked it with a grunt, and stumbled back. "What do you know about having to swallow retorts to keep everyone alive?!" I swung again, blindly, and almost caught him in the neck. "To wonder everyday if someone was going to steal one of the children to use as a pet until they got bored?!" The next blow caught him on the arm, and I was almost sickened by how pleased I was to get the damn hit. "To know that even if something happened, you had to be damn lucky to even get a token investigation?!" The last swing snapped both poles in half, pieces flying overhead. I didn't watch as I glared at the giant, panting heavily and daring him to say another word. "You don't know a damn thing."

"No, I do not." I… what? What? Then why had he said all of that?! "But if you had fought like that from the start, then I would not have resorted to it." …I had the overwhelming urge to use the splintered piece of wood in my hand to hit him over the head. Repeatedly. "Fight like that always. Nothing comes from holding back." With those words, he walked off, leaving me to just stare as he proceeded to bully Alistair into a sparring match. I… what was… this was… Maker, above, I hated him.

"Tea?" I cautiously turned and saw Lady Elspeth standing just out of range, carrying a mug. Cleon was sitting at her feet, sipping from his own. "It's chamomile," she explained as I slowly dropped what remained of the makeshift weapon and approached her. She waited until I reached before handing me the mug. "It should help relax you." I dreaded to think of what they must've thought, watching that.

"Soup is ready, by the way," Cleon commented. He gestured for the two of us to sit, and I did only after Lady Elspeth did, as was proper. "Morrigan went to forage some berries to add to it." And probably to cool off her frustrations, if his grin meant anything. "Seems Alistair and Sten are sparring just like the Qunari wanted." I wasn't even going to look. "So, seems like the perfect time to gossip." About what? "What do you two think about Leliana and Sten?" Ah, the two newest. Leliana, who joined because of a vision I was half-certain was madness, and Sten, who was all but conscripted. I really had no idea how to answer that question.

"Leliana is interesting, for a bard." Of course, Lady Elspeth already had an answer. That said, bard? She was a storyteller? "There aren't many who would join a cloister, even to hide." Why would a bard need to hide? I was so confused. "Personally, I think Aiden has the best chance of getting her to open up." How? I decided to play along with her vision, and then we had an argument! "Sten is Qunari, who are very intriguing." She took a sip of her tea, gazing at it thoughtfully. "Among the Qunari, it seems like every person has one role, their entire lives." I… that… I wasn't sure how to feel about that. "Women are more… intellectual, compared to men who are more physically adept. At least, that is how I interpreted his words." She ducked her head. "I could be wrong, of course." At this point, even a wrong interpretation was better than what we had. "Oh, but they're scared of magic." Wasn't everyone in the world? "They view them as dangerous things. So, if he starts provoking Morrigan, it might be to reassure himself that she's properly 'leashed'." Both Cleon and I choked at the idea of Morrigan accepting any sort of tie. "Regardless, though, he is a warrior, and he will listen to orders." Why did I feel like there were qualifications to that? Probably because there always were. "He's just as curious about the culture here, though. We talk often." So I'd noticed.

"So, if I say 'jump', he'll jump, but go to you to question why?" Cleon summarized. Lady Elspeth nodded and he sighed. "Okay, but why you? No offense meant, but…"

"I, apparently, remind him most of the Qunari?" She sounded almost intrigued by it, though there was no sign of it on her face. "He mentioned I remind him of a tamassaran. I haven't yet learned what that is, of course." If it involved keeping everyone from snapping, she was doing a great job when she wasn't arguing with Cleon about Logahin. "Regardless, those are my observations on both of them."

"Thank you, Lady Elspeth," I murmured, bowing my head to her. It was only proper. "At the least, it seems like we don't have to worry about anyone but Alistair and Morrigan killing each other." Assuming Cleon didn't pull her tail too much.

"To continue that, we must elect a leader," Cleon pointed out. He stretched luxuriously, grunting in satisfaction as something popped. "Otherwise, how will we keep from pulling everyone's hair?" He smiled nostalgically, laughing at a joke only he knew. "Anyway, I vote 'Aiden'." Wait, what? "Because, Fen'harel's teeth, I don't want to." HEY!

"Yes, he is even-minded most times, and does his best to provide a neutral answer in all arguments," Lady Elspeth murmured. I could only stare in horror as she nodded. "Yes, I do agree." Did I get no say in this?!

"W-what about Alistair?" I protested, glancing over at the other Warden. He and Sten just finished their spar. "He's senior."

"Alistair has been trained to follow, not lead." For some reason, her grip on her mug tightened. "I do think he can become a good leader in time, but we must have one now, not later." I… but…

"What about me?" And there was Alistair, walking over. He winced and he rolled his shoulders. "Maker, Sten doesn't pull punches," he sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry, thought I heard my name. Should I leave you to your gossiping?"

"We were just trying to decide who would be leader," Lady Elspeth told him, bluntly. My eyes widened as I tried to figure out how to best explain this. Cleon just glowered at her, but she shrugged it off. "Your name came up." Oh, and how were we supposed to explain-?!

"Oh, come now, you don't want me leading." The easy dismissal and smile almost hid the panic I saw in his eyes. "I mean; I was raised by dogs!" What. "Devout Andrastians, and an unholy love of cheeses." I… "You didn't guess from my table manners?"

"Sometimes, I honestly wonder if you and Nuada compete for who is most annoying," Cleon growled. He leveled a baleful look at Alistair, but Alistair just took it with a smile. "Where did the dogs come from? Real answer, for once."

"Fine, fine." Alistair sighed. "You have no sense of humor." And Cleon looked three seconds away from strangling Alistair. "Well, I slept in the kennels when I lived in Redcliffe." …What? Wait, what? Not even the elves were forced to do that. "I didn't mind, though. The puppies were warm and affectionate. Not like the other servants." He made a face. "One time, I locked myself in the dungeon on accident and it took a whole day for them to find me. Ah, good times." I… Uh… "Something wrong, Aiden?" How was he smiling? How was he laughing? "Oh, look, Morrigan's back! I'm going to bother her!" And he disappeared before I could even think of an answer.

"…If that's true, then what was he thinking?" I glanced over at Lady Elspeth, but she wasn't looking at me anyway. Just the ground, with her hands in white-knuckled fists on her lap. "I don't think I'll forgive Eamon for that." For what? What did she know? I wanted to ask, but… but who was I to question a noble? I might be named leader, but I was still an elf. Trying to act outside of that got me into this mess in the first place!

I just hoped for an easy trip through this forest, and that we get help from the Dalish quickly. After Ostagar, I wasn't sure how much time we actually had left.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Short chapter, sorry! A few character interactions, and the start of some uneasy alliances. (and if you REALLY hate filler chapters like this, I'm sorry, but I'm writing with four POVs, and to try and push through the plot will make all the characters appear quite two dimensional, if not ONE dimensional.)
> 
> Next Chapter – Traveling to the Tower with Nuada


	40. Chapter 35) Shelter

Chapter 35) Shelter

Nuada POV

* * *

_"That mage is dangerous, to himself and others." I didn't know what to say. Father had been chatting with the First Enchanter before this strange man in stranger armor showed up with a scowl and fierce words. "It cannot wait," he insisted. I saw the burning sword marking the front of his armor and wondered why it was there. "He has to go through the Rite of Tranquility." What was that?_

_"Perhaps, Knight-Commander, that is a discussion I shouldn't overhear?" I looked up at Father's pointed words, and saw his fake smile. He didn't like this man. Was he bad? "But I do trust, dear templar, you have gone through all the proper investigations?" Father continued lightly. His hand reached to my shoulder and tugged me behind his leg. I peeked out anyway to watch the angry man glower. "The Rite is, after all, supposed to be used as a last resort." Father's smile grew softer, but his eyes were cold. No, he didn't like this man at all. But I didn't think the First Enchanter or the scowly man knew that. "I bid you good evening, First Enchanter, Knight-Commander. Let us have a wonderful talk over wine later." Oh, he must really not like this man. Father only invited people he didn't like to drink wine. "Come, Nuada. Let us leave them to their investigations."_

_"Yes, sir," I mumbled. I bowed to the two, made myself smile just like Father, and followed him out of the Antivan Circle of Magi. "Who was that?"_

_"The leader of the templars here, pup." Were the templars bad, then? "I'll tell you more when you're older. It's a bit murky."_

_"Okay." That meant complicated. I didn't like complicated. "Can I have a sweet?"_

* * *

"I do believe that is the tenth envious look sent my way today," I laughed, waving to the two teenagers working in the fields nearby. I wasn't sure which one looked more envious, the boy or the girl. "Alas, 'tis the price for traveling with such lovely company."

"Are you so certain they were looking at us?" With a laugh, Leliana easily joined into my banter with dancing eyes. She'd been quite chipper as we meandered past unusually quiet farmlands, and I was glad for it. It made it easier to not imagine the bountiful harvests going up in smoke from fighting. "Perhaps they are envious of our having you!"

"Alack, alay!" I even gasped for effect and she laughed even harder. "Oh, whatever should I do, Leliana? How can I disappoint them so?" She was getting a little red in the face, and a person laughing rarely thought clearly. So, seeing a chance, I purposely switched to speaking in Orlesian. "I suppose, however, that this sort of traveling must seem quite dull when compared to the glitter of Halamshiral."

"Oh, no." Ha, she didn't even really notice, just automatically started talking in Orlesian too. She just wiped away the tears and fanned herself. "It's rather exciting, actually. This isn't the sort of thing you'd do in…" She trailed off, eyes widening slightly as she realized just what I'd said, and what she just said.

I smiled when she looked at me. "How's Marjolaine?" She paled at the name, a sharp contrast to the earlier flush. "I trust she's well?"

"I don't know, and I don't care." Oh, that was vehement. "B-but, I promise, I left that life behind!" Considering how easy of a trap she fell into, I'd hope it was either that or she was trying to trick me into complacency. "I've been a laysister at the Lothering Chantry for three years." Wait, was she babbling? "I-I promise!" She was. Wow, did I hit a nerve or what?

"Relax, I'm not distrusting you." I looked up at the sky to give her time to compose herself. "Aiden has good instincts. If you'd meant to do us harm, I rather doubt he'd have listened to you." Though, Aiden also needed to learn he had good instincts. Honestly, I thought only Cleon had better. "It is a shame you stopped, though. Bards can sometimes help in ways others can't." There was nothing inherently evil or wrong with the Bards of Orlais. It was just very, very dangerous.

"Oh." I glanced back and thought I saw a thoughtful grimace flash across her face. Well, that was interesting. I'd let Elspeth know when I next saw her. "Still, I haven't seen Marjolaine in all that time, and I hope to never do so again." That had to be a bitter, at best, parting then. Her eyes were even narrowed into a glare.

"What are you two talking about?" I looked down to see Layla had finally decided to rejoin the two of us. She'd been a bit ahead, excitement making her feet fast and her cheeks flushed. She didn't say anything aloud about wanting to be back at the Tower, but even a child could figure out her happy thoughts. "I do not understand that language," she continued, sounding almost a little cross as she pouted. She promptly almost tripped and both Leliana and I reached out to catch her. "…Thank you…"

"It's no trouble!" Leliana reassured with a laugh. She shifted so that Layla was between me and her, and hooked her arm in Layla's with a casual ease. Layla didn't seem to mind at all. "Nuada was simply being kind, and decided to talk to be in Orlesian so I could hear the language again." Bards really were the best liars. "We were talking about how I used to be a storyteller before joining the Chantry." She would've also been a spy, possibly an assassin outright. That was the Game, though, where a handful of words and one strategically placed glove could ruin marriages and rip apart noble houses. I hated that Elspeth and I were good at it. Well, she was good; I was decent. Honestly, the fact that in the Court I got along with Gaspard more than anyone else spoke a lot about me, I think.

"You are a storyteller?" I bit back a laugh at just how sparkling her eyes got. I hadn't seen her this cheerful since… since events I am not going to think about because I will break and, until the Blight is over, I really, really can't break or show weakness. Too many would look to Wardens for salvation, once it got through their thick skulls that this was a real threat. "Do you know any about griffons, Leliana?" …Why? Why did she have to ask about griffons? They just made me think of Oren. I couldn't think of Oren right now.

"I do, but I'll tell you one later, when we're camped." I was definitely going to figure out a good excuse to not be around. "But tell me, Layla. What's this Tower like?"

"Oh, it is wonderful, Leliana!" Layla gushed, a very distinctive skip to her step as we continued to walk. I focused on the surrounding area, but found it as wonderfully empty as before. How long would things remain peaceful here? Refugees would be pouring in soon. There was no doubt about that. "You had to be careful about getting on the wrong end of an angry templar, of course, but Knight Commander Greagoir would deliver harsh punishments to any of his templars who were caught trying to use their position to hurt us mages!" Well, that was a wonderful thing to hear. I was afraid it would be like the Gallows in Kirkwall. "There are accidents, of course, and rebels all around, but it's really, really wonderful!" Now, did she think that before she saw the world outside the Tower or had everything Thedas thrown at her made her decide it was lovely? It was hard to tell. "I can't wait to introduce you all to Irving! He's the First Enchanter, and he's like a father to everyone. Oh, but he doesn't excuse our actions." She nodded vigorously, and we had to stop walking to make sure she didn't trip again in her excitement. "He's a proper father." Something dark flashed through her eyes. What was that sentence hiding? Ah, that wasn't my business. Everyone had their secrets. "Neria should still be there too! She's Aiden's cousin!" Was that so? Well, we'd have to see if she was up for writing a letter to him. It would be easy to carry it. "I wonder if Anders is back? He's on his twelfth escape." That, more than anything, showed how this Knight-Commander was fair and followed the law. I knew other Circles would've Tranquiled the mage after the third attempt. "There's also…" She suddenly trailed off, a surprisingly heartbreaking light in her eyes. Was she thinking of the mages lost at Ostagar? "Um…"

"I must admit; I am surprised." Leliana certainly looked it, lip bitten in thought, arms crossed over her chest. "Considering how the templars can be." Oh. Oh, no, was this starting?

"It always comes back to the mages and templars." I didn't even realize the words had left my mouth until I noticed both Layla and Leliana staring at me curious. "I mean…" I began, before sighing, reaching back to fix my ponytail. It was getting tangled in the wind; I'd have to brush it when we stopped. "I know it is an issue." Oh, Maker, was it ever an issue. "But it seems to drown out a lot of the other issues facing our society?" Both just continued to stare, and I felt obligated to defend myself, damn it. "Yes, mages need more autonomy. Yes, the Chantry has turned what used to be a beneficial system into something of a glorified cage that simultaneously does a wonderful job in protecting its charges and exposes them to their greatest dangers." I needed a bottle or ten of Antivan wine for this. "However, it seems like people use this issue as a smokescreen to avoid talking about the systematic oppression of elves that has literally lasted for ages, or how nobles of questionable morals will take advantage of the very people they are to protect and no one can raise their voice, especially in other countries." We weren't even going to talk about how no one on the surface thought of the dwarves living underground, constantly fighting darkspawn and slowly suffocating in their own outdated traditions. "That's all." I was just so damn tired of people constantly going back and forth on a morally grey issue, when decidedly not morally grey issues were pushed under the rug.

"Goodness, I think that's the longest I've heard you talk about a serious thing!" Leliana giggled, not at all offended by what I said. I could only smile vaguely in reply. After all, she wasn't wrong. I normally kept silent about things like that. "Regardless, we are slowing down, and I don't like those clouds forming, so-"

"Say, Nuada?" Startled, I looked down at Layla to see her fidgeting, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, fiddling with the straps of her chest piece. "Um…" She took a breath and looked me right in the eye, eyes surprisingly serious. If she was going to ask to heal me again, I was going to- "What do you think of the Rite of Tranquility?" …What? "Just… what's your opinion on it?" Okay. Okay, I have grown up in many, many different courts over the years. I have seen a wide range of sights, heard an even larger range of things. I lived through years in the Orlesian Court as a popular target and pawn of the Game. It took a lot to startle me. But never would I have expected that question, and I really wouldn't have expected Layla to ask me.

"When I first heard about it, I thought it strange," I finally murmured, feeling myself tense at the memory. "Of course, I'd been maybe five? We were still in Antiva, and it was the first time I'd ever seen a templar." I still wasn't sure how much I liked them. I understood their purpose, but the Chantry didn't do a good job making sure they did said purpose in a reasonable, moral manner. "Now, I think it's a needlessly cruel practice, something the Chantry preaches because destroying minds is so much better than killing people, especially when the person is unwilling." Well, that came out far more bitter than I intended. "However, I understand it's a choice some people make, and that is their right." Some days, I could really envy their ability to look at a situation with total logic. "But that's more or less my extent of an opinion." It was abused, like everything else the Chantry did. We really needed a more progressive Divine to fix the mess.

"But what about the Tranquil themselves?" Okay, Layla, what was with you asking me these things? What did I do to make you wonder about my opinion? "They've lost their emotions, the things that color life!"

"They're… people?" I shrugged, feeling a little irritated now. Things were not helped by Leliana being horribly silent through the exchange, watching us with a strange bemusement I did not like. "I can't form a general opinion on people." She opened her mouth, probably to protest something, so I kept talking. "They show no more emotion than Elspeth does around strangers, but I'd be willing to bet they're as content about life as she is. I laugh and smile a lot, but who knows what I'm thinking behind it? I'm probably plotting murder!" Her eyes widened, so I hastily added, "That's speaking hypothetically, though I do know people who can do that." Almost all of them were Orlesian, though there were no few Nevarrans in the mix.

"But they don't have free will." Well, thank you so much for giving your opinion now, Leliana. Truly, I was blessed! "They just serve," she continued, rising a bit of her tiptoes to better lean towards me. Layla nodded vigorously for emphasis and I really had to fight off the urge to groan. I had a headache, and a rising desire to have bunches of alcohol. I'd even try dwarven swill at this point! "So, in that sense-"

"No, it is simply Tranquil do not have the want to object simply from defiance." WHY DID I KNOW MORE ABOUT TRANQUIL THAN THE MAGE?! Did she never talk to them? "In White Circle, I saw Tranquil refuse orders often." Well, both were staring now. "They did because the orders were illogical. That's how they think." I couldn't make myself smile anymore, and I had to fight off the urge to rub my temples by clenching my fists behind my back. "That's all. Many people strive for that mentality even in real life." Those people tended to be leaders, or high ranking. You really needed a logical head to play ruthless mathematics with people's lives. "Are you two going to give me an explanation for why we had this lovely discussion?" I bit the inside of my mouth hard when both shook their heads, resisting the urge to both groan and scream. Right, then it was time to go back to my mask before I did or said something I'd regret. "Alack, alay, oh woe is me, to be the victim of your games!" That… wasn't really the mask, so I made myself smile to make it seem like a joke. If we passed a tavern, I was buying something.

"Thank you ever so much!" At least Leliana knew how to play along. "But, and excuse me for changing the subject, do either of you hear something?" she asked, looking to the nearby shrubs. Now that she mentioned it; there was a distinct rustling from them. "Someone should check, yes?" Yes, because it could really be anything from a squirrel to a bounty hunter.

"I'll do it," I volunteered with a sigh. This was sheer idiocy, but I was wearing the best armor still, so if the thing was violent, I had the best shot of getting away with only a bruise. Providing, of course, I didn't do something to my stomach wound, but that was neither here nor there. "Hold on." A quick glance back showed me Leliana reaching for either an arrow or a knife, while Layla looked entirely too curious with barely wary eyes. Right, let's see what's…

"BOO!" I had about three seconds to yelp and fall on my ass before realizing the apparent 'attacker' was nothing more than a mischievous little boy, not much older than Oren, wearing the biggest grin. "Got you~!" he laughed, grin somehow getting even wider as he climbed out of the bushes. "Hahaha!" He didn't even seem to mind all the scratches and mud covering his arms, face, and clothes as he continued to laugh and laugh.

So I, being the sensible and reasonable adult, proceeded to loose some of the most blistering curses I knew, completely uncaring of the fact he might go home and repeat all of them to his parents. He'd deserved whatever punishment they gave him!

"Wait, Mister, what are you saying?" It took me a few seconds for me to get what he meant, pausing mid-sentence as I realized what I was thinking and saying weren't Common. They'd been Antivan. A quick glance back confirmed Layla and Leliana looked just as confused.

"That doesn't matter," I grumbled, pushing myself up. The boy still looked confused. "You, child, shouldn't be doing stuff like that to random travelers on the road!" I reached down to poke his nose, making him squirm and giggle. "What if we'd been bandits? You'd be dead or worse!" Providing, of course, we were the morally corrupt kind, not the really desperate to make ends meet kind. "What if we'd been paranoid soldiers?" Why did the kid still look confused, tilting his head to the side? "So, you need to think about who to safely play pranks on and…" Wait a second. "And I'm still not speaking Common, am I?" All right, so what language was I currently thinking in? This was the trouble with knowing so many; you often got mixed up on what to actually say. "Let's see. Harder syllables mean Nevarran, so…" It was made infinitely worse when you had the bad habit of not noticing when you switched things up. At least the kid seemed amused. "Are these words Common?" The boy finally nodded and I sighed heavily. "Okay, then I can give you a proper scolding!" The boy's eyes widened and I fought the urge to laugh. "And don't think you can get out of it. I have a nephew."

Laughter from behind me made me turn, and I glowered at Layla when I realized she was the source. "You are so silly!" she managed to say, covering her mouth to stifle the sound even as her eyes teared up from the force. "You didn't even notice!"

"You try keeping six or seven languages straight in your head!" I really couldn't help but protest, but she only seemed to laugh more. Even Leliana was giggling, though she held her stomach instead of her face. "Truly, I am glad to serve as your jester!" I turned back to the kid, who was back to grinning. "What are you even doing out here?"

"Wondering what Wardens are doing here." Everything froze at the boy's casual words. "Girl looks like the poster," he explained, hands going behind his head in a very relaxed pose. "Mama said to look out for Wardens." Yeah, I'd imagine given- "It's gonna rain soon." A quick look up to the skies confirmed he was right. "You can stay in our barn." Uh…

"If the offer is genuine, we should probably take it." I really couldn't help but give Leliana a look and she grimaced slightly. "I know," she whispered. Her hand tightened on her bow, even as she smiled. "But this looks to be a bad storm." I'd trust her opinion on that one. Weather had never been my strong point. "We can run fast." Layla might not, but I could carry her and still keep enough speed, probably. "We'd be honored to come with you, little one." Here was hoping…

* * *

Surprisingly, the boy's mother was very accommodating of us. In fact, she'd had her boy out looking for Wardens specifically to give us shelter and food if we needed it. Why? Apparently, her sister's family lived in Lothering, and she'd been among the many we'd saved that day.

"Teyrn Loghain stole all the soldiers, but you Wardens went out to help, even though everyone is turning against you," she gushed, smiling sweetly as she helped be shove some hay into some makeshift beds for the three of us. "I appreciate it. Who knows what might've happened to my little niece if you hadn't saved the town?" Well, hopefully, she would've just died. I doubted a little kid could get away fast enough to escape harm. "Been spreading the tale, of course, every time someone brings up the thing at Ostagar. The way I see it, either a plan went wrong, or someone is lying to me, because I refuse to believe a group that protects one tiny town is anything but good." I… I honestly hadn't expected that. "And don't think I'm the only one, either. The people running from Lothering spread tales of your heroism high and low." She giggled, clapping her hands together lightly in what I thought was delight. "I reckon in a few days, you lot will even be able to stay in an inn without too much worries. Make due with the barn until then!"

"Believe me, ma'am, I think this will be some of the best sleep I've gotten in a while." I smiled and bowed to her, making her laugh again. "Truly, thank you for this, and the delightful meal earlier."

"Oh, it was just simple fare." I have literally had feasts that were worse. "Please, enjoy your rest." She turned to her children, including the rascal who'd led us here, only to see they were in a circle around Leliana and Layla, with Leliana obviously in the middle of some epic tale with grandiose hand gestures. "Oh dear."

"It's been a bit since we've had a moment to rest like this." I put on my most charming smile. "Surely, they can stay for just a bit longer, yes?"

"I… oh, I suppose." She sighed, shaking her head. "Things will be rough soon. It'll be good for them to take the time they have now to play." Well, wasn't that a sunny thought? "They can stay until I'm done with my last rounds." She smiled at me again and heading out the door, holding a canvas over her head to keep from getting soaked. I waited until the doors shut before returning to settling the hay. Here was hoping she'd be all right out there. Wait, had I even gotten her name?"

"You didn't flirt with her?" Confused, I looked and found Layla had left the circle to stand by me. Despite her words, she only looked confused. "Don't you flirt with everyone?" she asked, leaning forward slightly, even if it meant she had to look up more.

"I don't flirt with married or unresponsive people," I corrected with great dignity before flopping down into the hay. It was wonderfully soft and smelled incredibly sweet. "The first is problems I would really not want to deal with, and the second is simply common courtesy."

"I… half expected you to say something like 'I do not flirt with men'?" She hesitantly sat next to me, wrinkling her nose at the dust. "Though, given your interactions with Cleon and Alistar, I am not sure why."

"Mmm, gender has never really been a factor in whether or not I find a person attractive." It was always hard to explain. "Regardless, that can't be what brought you over here." Feeling a dull ache in my wrist, I reached up to massage it, hoping to ease the pain. Did I injure it at Lothering? "What's up?"

"I…" She hesitated in answering, so I readied a reply about how she didn't have to tell me. But then she kept on going before I could, "Leliana was talking about how the Maker is kind." Her voice sounded so small, and I looked over to see her hugging herself. "And I could… I did not know how to react." She ducked her head, as if afraid she'd be smited or something. "I used to believe. I really did. But after everything… after everything, I just didn't know…"

"That's fine." I shrugged off the look she gave me, continuing to massage my aching wrist. "You can be a good person and not believe in the Maker, or really any sort of divine entities, you know?" You could also be a very, very horrific person and believe in Him. It was sad how many of the Chantry fell into that category. "I'm not sure how much time we actually have to think about such things, though." Personally, I thought we didn't have any, but I wasn't so cruel that I'd say that to her face when she looked like a lost mabari pup.

"I see." Hesitantly, she reached to my hand and pried it off of my wrist. "You should not do that. You shall bruise yourself if you do it like that." I almost laughed it off, but then remembered something that felt so long ago. "Then you will have more injuries you refuse to let me heal." She was definitely sulky, but I didn't rise to the bait. Instead, I tried to review my thoughts, making sure they weren't similar to the thoughts so long ago, when such an action would've been quite purposeful.

I sighed in relief when I realized no, that hadn't been the case. It shouldn't be. It had been a long time since I conquered those urges. But with everything, would I relapse? I didn't think so, but… "Keep an eye on things like that, please." Layla looked at me in confusion, but I just looked at my arms, remembering the old self-inflicted injuries. "I used to have the habit in the past." I really shouldn't be saying this, but it was better to admit a possible weakness than to find myself back on that path. "Bruises were my method." Her hands further curled around mine, still gentle, but firm. "Relax, Layla. It's been… oh, it's been about six or seven years since I last even thought about it." Hesitantly, I looked to her, and saw her staring straight back, eyes understanding. "With everything, though, I suppose I'm not confident I won't relapse." I didn't think I would. But before everything, it would've been an 'I know'. "I should be fine."

"But you are not certain, so you wish for another set of eyes?" I nodded and was absolutely startled by how bright her smile was. Why, in Andraste's name, was she smiling that wide?! I really didn't get her sometimes. "I can do that. I did it in the Tower." It somehow didn't surprise me. "Do not fret!" I wasn't? But if she thought I was, I'd let her believe it. It was easier. "Oh, I feel wonderful now!" Why? "I think I shall make some balms!" Before I could say or do anything, she bolted to the corner where we set down our packs.

I thought about calling after her, but decided against it and settled a little further into the hay, listening to the rain pelting the roof and Leliana teaching the children a silly and fun song about raindrops, roses, and kittens. Surprisingly, I felt myself start drifting rather quickly, and thought about fighting it off. But, in the end, I decided to just give in and take the rest. It wouldn't be every day we'd have such warm shelter. I might as well take advantage of it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Bonding chapter with the three, on the way to the Tower, as well as Nuada actually VOICING some of his opinions on issues. As for the thing with the bruises... I debated whether or not to do that with Nuada, but it felt 'right' with his character, so I decided to do so. It's not going to be a prevailing thing, simply something Nuada (and Layla) watches out for as things start going to the Void and back. (If there is a need, I will put in a warning, but as it stands, I will not since I do not plan on showing the behavior, or to have an episode in Nuada's POV where he is fighting off the thoughts.)
> 
> Next Chapter – Dalish quest starts with Cleon


	41. Chapter 36) Stranger

**Chapter 36) Stranger**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_“I see. So little Tamlen has grown up and married Lyna,” Zathrian chuckled, clearly pleased. “Soon they’ll have da’len of their own.”_

_“Oh, Creators, I don’t think I could deal with a second either of them,” I groaned, shaking my head. Zathrian had urged me to walk with him through the forest again, as was his habit whenever our Clans were close enough to speak. Sometimes, it felt like he talked more to me than Mathariel. “I’m going to be stuck babysitting.”_

_“You’re going to enjoy every minute of it, and you know it.” I made a face anyway and he laughed, the sound echoing off the trees. “You should think of proposing to Merrill. I’ve seen the looks you two exchange.”_

_“M-maybe another time?” My voice was definitely squeaky, and I knew I was turning pink. “I still have much to learn.”_

_“You always do, Cleon.” His voice was soft, and I wondered if he was thinking of his own family, long gone. “But don’t let yourself miss any opportunity. Sometimes, life moves unexpectedly, and the Creators… strangely cruel.”_

_“…I’ll keep it in mind.” He smiled at me, and I smiled back before finding an easy distraction. “Ah, a wolf?” To my surprise, Zathrian immediately glared at the white wolf hiding in the shadows. It seemed to glare right back, snarling, and I thought I saw brown on its legs, wrapping around its legs. Had it gotten into mud? “Zathrian?”_

_“Ah, forgive me.” He smiled wryly. “I have a… difficulty with wolves. You never know when Fen’harel is pulling a trick.” Though I was still confused about what was with the wolf, Zathrian nudged my shoulder and urged me to move. I swore it was boring a hole through my back, though.“Now then, tell me more about the wedding. Were there any mishaps?”_

* * *

“I do not know what to be more surprised about, da’len. That you have appeared so unexpectedly, or that you come not on behalf of Marethari, but of the Grey Wardens.” I felt myself relax at Zathrian’s soothing voice. It was so nice to hear something so familiar. If only for a moment, I could pretend everything was someone else’s problem. “Tell me,” he gently urged. We waved at the other elves as we passed, but continued to walk the perimeter of the camp. “How did such a thing come to pass?” 

“It’s… a bit of a tale,” I sighed, shaking my head. It also felt so long ago. Strange. “The short version is that Tamlen was over eager, I didn’t stop him, and we both paid severe consequences.” Namely Tamlen was dead, and I was a glorified dead elf walking. “And now I’m here.” With strange companions that Lanaya took charge of and Creators, please don’t let any of the Clan hurt them. 

“I should’ve known Tamlen was involved.” His smile was kind and fond, even if his voice was exasperated. “How is Lyna?” 

“She was…” I trailed off, trying to think on how to answer. “Well, she’s six or seven months pregnant, and she was upset at my departure.” 

“A mother to be always has stresses.” He gave me a stern look. “I trust you left her in safe hands.” I matched his look with one of my own and he smiled. “Of course. Forgive me, Cleon. You know I am fond of you both.” Fond and overprotective, but in a not-so-smothering fashion. It was strange, but I was used to it. “Now, I am curious as to what brought you here. If it is simply news of the Blight, it isn’t needed. I sensed its corruption and warned Marethari.” Ah. 

“Well, it is the Blight, but not a warning.” I pulled out the treaty from my pack and handed it to him. “It seems our ancestors swore to aid the Wardens?” 

He was silent as he read the paper, frowning deeply before suddenly chuckling. “Oh, now I remember this.” He handed it back to me. “I had just become a First when my predecessor signed it.” …Sometimes I forgot that Zathrian was _incredibly_ old. Then again, I also often forgot he had to be a First at some point. “Unfortunately, I am… not certain on my Clan’s ability to uphold it.” Huh? 

“What do you mean, Zathrian?” I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from snapping about how much we _needed_ this help. This was Zathrian. I adored and looked up to him. “It’s…” 

He rested a hand on my shoulder to stop my words. “Hush. Listen.” I took a breath and closed my eyes to better obey. Immediately, I heard muffled screams of pain and shuddered. “And now that you have fair warning…” He gently nudged me towards a curtained off area. “This is why.” 

I nearly gagged as I stepped through the curtain. Elves all laid up in cots, twisting in pain, groans easily heard even though gags and pillows muffled them. Wounds like looked like a beast had gnawed and torn. Some even had limbs removed, and they sobbed with phantom pains. 

It took me a couple of seconds to realize Aiden and Morrigan were also there, in the far corner. Morrigan was crushing herbs, lips thin and eyes narrowed in concentration. Aiden was carefully picking up the wounded, so that other elves could change out their blankets. 

“It seems some of your comrades decided to help.” I turned back to Zathrian, who watched all the injured with pained eyes. “We came here a month ago,” he told me, not even glancing my way. “We are always wary of the dangers in the forest.” Bears. Rabid wolves. Sylvans. Trees suddenly cracking and falling. Corpses. The list went on and on. “But we didn’t expect werewolves to ambush us.” Were… wolves…? I barely knew of them from Hahren Paivel’s stories. They were legends. Why were they here? “They were driven back, but… well, you can see the cost.” Essentially, there _were_ no warriors here. “I will send a messenger to Clans I know to be nearby, Cleon.” And, logically, I needed to leave to go to the others. I knew that. “But even with our magic and healing skill, all that can be done is delay the inevitable.” But I… I… 

“Can I help?” My voice was soft and fragile. I felt like a da’len, and I spoke to the ground. “Is there…?” I wanted to help. I wanted to help so badly. And not just because this was a Clan I grew up with, not just because these were Dalish. I… needed to help. I needed proof that I could _do_ something, that I could _save_ something. Actually save, not just buy time, like what we did in Lothering. 

“The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood.” I had _never_ wanted to know a blood mage so badly in my _life_. Maybe they could fix it! “The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that…” He sighed, shaking his head. “That would be no trivial task.” 

“We are Wardens, elder.” I had to bite back a yelp as Aiden suddenly joined the conversation. For once, he was standing tall, easily showing how he was taller than even Zathrian, and he looked the Keeper straight in the eye. Why was he not like this all the time? “I think it’ll be a lesser task than defeating the Blight,” he continued, ignoring me as I gawked. Even with the blood and sweat staining his shirt, he looked like a hahren. Elspeth and I made a good choice, making him leader. “So, what is it?” 

“I…” Zathrian sighed again, and nodded. “Within the forest dwells a great wolf we call ‘Witherfang’.” I couldn’t help but frown. I had never heard of this ‘Witherfang’ before. “It is from him the curse originates, and through his blood that it spreads.” And, again, I was longing for a blood mage. Even though _everything_ Dalish lore said about it defined it as evil and dangerous. Clearly, everything had messed up my head. “If he is killed, and his heart brought to me, I might be able to destroy the curse.” Aiden’s fists clenched, but he hid them behind his back. “This is a task too dangerous to entrust to anyone but my hunters, and…” And most of them were the victims. “More than werewolves lurk in the Forest. Its history is full of carnage and murder.” 

“Luckily, Cleon is with us.” This was true. And if I could prove myself… “And Morrigan there grew up in the Korcari Wilds.” Morrigan was the daughter of Asha’bellanar, and nothing was scarier. 

“I see.” Zathrian smiled at last. “Ma serranas, da’len. I shall arrange for aravels for you and your companions.” Aiden looked confused, but nodded when I did. I’d explain to him later the dangers of being in the Forest after dark. “Until later, then.” 

“He reminds me of Valendrian,” Aiden murmured, watching him leave. I thought of the meeting I had with the Alienage Hahren and nodded. Zathrian was older and more stern, but I could see where he was coming from. “But still, this is all very strange.” Confused, I looked to Aiden and found him actually frowning in contemplation. “There are no children among the injured.” Huh? “Ah, sorry, um…” Aiden shifted awkwardly as I stared, but finally mumbled, “he said ambushed, yes? So, logically, there should be some non-hunters among the dead and injured, right? Like children?” I nodded slowly and he continued. “I suppose it’s possible they were just killed, but…” I looked around and saw he was right. Zathrian would’ve mentioned if _all_ the da’len were killed; he had no mercy for child-killers. “I just… thought that strange. If they’re vicious, then shouldn’t it have been everyone?” I had no idea how to answer that. “Then again, I don’t know many stories about werewolves. Just some of what Valendrian talked about.” He shook his head and rolled his shoulders. “Back to…” He grimaced at his sleeve, glaring at something, and walked over to the injured without another word. 

I debated helping out, but I decided that it would probably be better for me to walk the camp and make sure everyone else was all right. Zathrian had pulled me away from them early, so I had no idea where the others were. So, with a heavy heart and a prayer, I left the injured behind. 

Shrieks of laughter caught my ear almost immediately, and I walked towards the sound, needing something lighthearted after what I’d seen. To my surprise, though, I found Alistair in the middle of a group of da’len, easily swinging them around and lifting them high in play. 

“You’re good at that,” I commented. Alistair turned and smiled at me, waving after he set the da’len down. “I’m… honestly a bit surprised.” Sure, he was child-like sometimes, but da’len like them would’ve been taught by now to stay clear of shemlen for their own safety. Yet here he was, playing with them as if they’d known him forever. 

“Oh, it’s not hard,” he laughed, waving the words away. “I just think of what I’d have liked to do as a kid. Surprisingly, most kids enjoy it.” I couldn’t help but frown again at the implication his childhood had been abusive. I… just could _not_ understand why anyone would want to hurt a child. “I’m just glad they’re not glaring at me like the adults!” I bit back a sigh. My fellows could be so… wait, hold on. Not all _that_ long ago, I would’ve been giving the fiercest glares. What… Creators, what was off with my head? “That elder fellow you were talking with. He was giving me a fierce one.” Zathrian? Why would…? Oh, right. 

“I… ask that you forgive him, Alistair.” I hesitated, trying to think on how to explain. “Shemlen stole his children from him, long ago.” That was… the most basic, way to say it. I had no right to explain _everything_ that happened to his son and daughter. Shemlen were so incredibly cruel. 

“Oh, no worries. I figured it was him being safer than sorry-er.” He smiled only to suddenly jolt back. “Whoa!” Startled, I burst into laughter as I realized the da’len were trying to climb onto his back. “Easy, easy! I bruise!” But Alistair was laughing too, smile bright and eyes soft, as he knelt down and let one get on his shoulders. “Aaaand up we go!” The da’len shrieked in delight at being so high and Alistair continued to laugh, clearly pleased. 

“It seems like we don’t have to worry about him.” I turned and found Elspeth at my side, watching Alistair play with the da’len. I noticed the fresh flower, a daisy, tucked behind her ear, and wondered if it was her daily flower from Alistair. “He was worried earlier about Zathrian’s glares,” she whispered. Glancing briefly at me, she continued, “I am no certain Zathrian has told us everything.” 

“He wouldn’t lie to me.” 

“You don’t need to speak a lie to hide the truth. Nuada and I do it all the time.” She shrugged, looking away awkwardly. “Werewolves… haven’t been seen or mentioned in Fereldan in centuries, Cleon. Something else has to be going on.” …I didn’t want to admit she was probably right. I just wanted something straightforward. Why couldn’t I have that? Any more of this and I was going to feel like a stranger among the very people I’d called home! 

“I see that none of this stopped Alistair from giving you a flower.” The subject change, abrupt as it was, had its intended effect. She immediately ducked her head, shuffling her feet like she wasn’t sure if she should run or not. “You know; if it makes you uncomfortable, you _can_ say ‘no’.” Not that most shemlen knew the meaning of the word, but Alistair seemed to be the type to be more horrified at offending than anything. 

“I don’t… dislike it.” She still wouldn’t look at me. “I just… don’t understand why.” Hmm? “It’s a lot of effort to find flowers when we’re on the move. I’m definitely not worth it. So, I don’t get why.” 

“Maybe he likes you?” No ‘maybe’ about it. By my eyes, he was trying to get to know and court her. Stoic Elspeth made it hard to decide if I should encourage or discourage him, though. 

“Why?” She gave me a surprisingly bitter smile. “I’ve nothing but some above average features and a title.” …Um… “Besides, you said it yourself. I’m much preferable when quiet.” I winced as I heard those words thrown out so easily. “So, I’m baffled by him. But I don’t dislike the flowers or jokes. They’re… comforting.” 

“Smile more so that the rest of us know that.” I’d just… let the rest of it be for now. Before I made it worse. “I think Morrigan is plotting to put frogs in his pocket or something for bugging you.” 

“She doesn’t need to come up with strange excuses.” She gave me another small smile, but there seemed to be no feeling in it at all. “I’m going to wander a bit more. Excuse me.” That… this was a conversation to pursue. Later. After talking with insufferable Nuada. 

“Oh, young Cleon!” Drawn out of my thoughts, I turned at the voice and smiled at Master Varathorn as he approached. “Just what I needed,” he laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. A glance back showed me Elspeth had disappeared. Had… she’d seen him coming and run? “An apprentice just used too much heat and completely warped the wood for a project.” _Ouch_. And if it was our prized ironbark, then it hurt all the more. “You’d think he was a durgen’len for how much he liked applying heat to poor living wood.” 

“I’m sure his actions bring him great sorrow,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral and my smile polite. I had no doubt his apprentice was bending backwards trying to make things up. “Master Ilen is well, by the way.” He and Master Varathorn were old friends. Many of our Clans’ meetings resulted in them laughing in an aravel, complaining about apprentices. “Or he was when I last saw him.” 

“Yes, word spreads quickly. You’re a Warden now.” He studied my face, smiling softly. “Kieran would be so proud of you.” It took me a minute to remember that was my father’s name. The way everyone talked about him in the Clan, you’d think he didn’t have a first name. Just ‘your father’ or ‘Keeper Mathariel’. “I remember the last gathering he spoke at. He told all the Clans that we needed to learn the ways of the shemlen if we were to survive.” He… what? I’d never heard that before. “He and Zathrian argued over it. But your father thought it better to use the old ways to _build_ a new future, with new stories.” He closed his eyes, to better remember. My head was still reeling at this new knowledge. “He spoke on how we _don’t_ know what the past was like. That we simply have pieces of stories, and our own, biased interpretations. He thought it hurt us more than helped. And that if we were to not suffer yet another devastating loss, we must work to cooperate.” He opened his eyes again, and I just stared back. “Yes, he’d be very proud to see you as a Warden, I think. I’m sure he’s smiling now.” Was he? So far as an ‘official’ Warden, I’d killed some darkspawn, fled a battle, and saved a town that was going to fall within the month anyway. _How_ was any of that worth pride?! “Sorry to talk your ear off. But I know how our people are when it comes to the dead.” Remember always, but rarely speak. “I thought you should know, as someone who knew him.” 

“…Thank you.” What else could I say? Even if I wondered just how or why he’d be proud, Master Varathorn did take the time to tell me of him. “I appreciate it.” Mostly. 

“Always so formal.” He ruffled my hair and I automatically made a face. “Now, that shemlen girl you travel with.” My mind automatically wondered what Morrigan and I wondered what he could want with her. “The one with leather armor and the bow?” And he was talking about Elspeth. Whoops. “Do you know where she got the bow?” 

“I believe she said it was a gift.” From a traitorous bastard, but I could appreciate holding onto a good weapon. “Why?” 

“It looks elven.” …Wha…? “Do you think she’ll let me study it?” I… actually… 

“I think so. But I’ll ask. We’re staying the night before leaving tomorrow.” 

“I know. Zathrian has asked me to ready supplies for you.” Master Varathorn’s smile took a distinctly worried edge. “Careful in the forest. Lanaya has talked of how loudly the trees cry.” Oh. Great. _Not_ what I needed to hear. 

Sighing, I started walking again, smiling and waving to elves as I passed. Because of how small the camp was, it didn’t take me long at all to meet the gathering circle, where all would sit and listen to stories. I even found Aiden there, seated next to the Hahren. And, judging by Aiden’s awkward smile, I figured Hahren Sarel was doing one of his pointed lectures. Again. 

“Hail, Hahren!” I called, stepping through the circle to make my way to Aiden’s side. I just _had_ to try and save him. “Well met!” 

“Ah! Andaran atish’an, lethallin!” Hahren Sarel immediately greeted back, smiling at me. As he waved, though, I saw him wearing a bracelet I remembered his wife treasuring, and wondered if she’d been among the dead. “It is good to see you again.” I smiled back as I sat next to Aiden, nodding as Aiden shot me a relieved smile. Yep. Doing it again. “How is Hahren Paivel? Is he still among the living?” 

“He was when I last saw him.” Though, considering events, I wasn’t sure how much he _wanted_ to be. “I’m convinced he’s immortal.” 

“Ha! I would believe it.” Hahren Sarel covered his mouth to muffle a laugh and Aiden shifted to lean on me a little. I noticed he was wearing a different shirt, and his hands scrubbed raw. “He, like Zathrian, was old even when I was but a da’len.” He shook his head, and suddenly his eyes narrowed, an angry light sparking in them. Oh. Great. I was about to be a target. “Tell me, Cleon. Did the Wardens ask you to join to better gain our assistance?” Now, let’s see. I _could_ be polite. I _should_ be polite. But the implied insult to Duncan, Duncan who _died saving us_ , made my blood boil. So. 

“No, I became one because Tamlen was an idiot, I didn’t stop him, an elven artifact killed him and infected me with the Taint, and I had the choice of becoming a Warden or dying from said Taint, which slowly but surely paralyzed and numbed me, inflecting me with chills and fever simultaneously.” I matched him, glare for glare, bristling as I growled. “If anything, my life was saved, _twice over_ , by them.” I wished I could’ve thanked him. There had been no time. I should’ve thanked him. “I will make allowance for your grief, and forgive you for the insult, _Hahren_.” 

“I think you made your point, Cleon,” Aiden sighed. He tugged my ear and made me yelp and nearly fall. “Now, Hahren, you were telling about to tell us about the werewolves.” Oh. Right. Important stuff. 

“Ah, yes.” Hahren Sarel nodded, anger fading for awkward sheepishness, and he tugged on the bracelet. Yes, she must’ve passed. A tragedy. I remembered them being much in love with each other. “Let us see…” he whispered, closing his eyes to remember. “The forest, as you must’ve heard by now, is a place where spirits more easily pass through from the Beyond.” And thus sylvans! And other monsters. “According to the legends, one great spirit possessed the wolf that became Witherfang, who passed its curse of rage onto men, and created werewolves.” Legends, huh? I wondered why this wasn’t known by my Clan. And I knew it wasn’t. After all the punishments I’d gotten from Hahren Paivel, I knew most of them by heart. “When shemlen lived here, the curse would spread anew to a few of them with each passing year, until they moved and fought even more battles to free themselves.” 

“So, likely, we’re facing offspring of the original werewolves?” Aiden tilted his head back to look at the sky. “Then again, Valendrian mentioned that werewolves were long lived. Maybe a few of them are the original ones?” Now wouldn’t _that_ be a scary thought. “Oh, forgive me. Valendrian is… well, we call him our ‘hahren’, so I suppose he would be the city elf counterpart to you.” Aiden’s smile was quite polite, and I wondered what had been said to him prior to my arrival. “He teaches us stories, and keeps us safe. In that sense, I suppose he is like your Keeper.” And Aiden’s smile was all but screaming ‘insult him if you dare’. Had… had I’d been this scary when Loghain implied Dalish had kings? Um… 

“You good here?” I whispered to him, already slipped my feet under me. Aiden nodded, still smiling politely, and all I could think was how he and Elspeth were similar right now. “Wonderful. I’m going to check on everyone.” He waved me off, and I promptly booked it, a little unsettled. I wondered… since we were among elves, was this closer to Aiden’s _actual_ personality? It would make sense for him to loosen his polite and servile nature when not surrounded by shemlen. Or maybe this was just him when he was angry? He _had_ looked rather tranquil in that mansion when he was slaughtering everyone… 

“Cleon.” I automatically stiffened at the voice, but made sure to hold my ground as I turned to face Sten. I’d learned quickly he _much_ preferred when we stood our ground. Meaning Alistair and Aiden annoyed him, while he liked Elspeth and me. “These are your people, yes?” he asked. Though he was talking quietly, his stance made me feel like I was able to get the lecture of the ages, if I was lucky. “Well?” Ah. 

“In a manner of speaking,” I answered carefully, making sure to keep eye contact. It was a bit of a strain on my neck, with him being so much taller, but I had no intention of annoying him and sparking a spar. He _really_ liked sparring with everyone. I wondered if it was his clumsy way of training us. “They are Dalish, like me, but they are of a different Clan, so some of their traditions are different.” 

“Chaotic.” Oh, he didn’t know the half of it. “Regardless, I had a question about them.” He nodded to some female hunters, chatting as they tended to their weapons. “Are they Aqun-Athok?” Are they… what? “Are they…” He paused, as if hunting for the word. “Someone who is assigned one gender, but is truly another?” Oh! 

“You’re asking if they are transgender?” Where was _this_ coming from? “What brought this on?” 

“They appear female.” That… I was more or less certain they were? Most transgender males did not wear the female armor of the hunters. “Yet they fight.” Huh? “They fight very well, in fact. Their aim is sure.” I felt a little pleased at him complimenting them. “But they cannot be both.” Uh… er… wait, Elspeth mentioned something like this…? 

“Um… hang on.” Desperately, I glanced around and luckily found Elspeth passing by. She glanced up and I waved her over. “Sorry, Sten, it’s so normal to me that I’m not sure how to explain it properly.” We’d go with that. “Elspeth, help me explain the female hunters?” Mostly because _she_ knew his people better than me! 

“Hmm…” She watched the huntresses for a bit before looking up at Sten. “Sten, the danger to the Dalish Clans is so great, that some women _must_ take up arms to protect themselves,” she explained. Sten nodded, and I hoped it was him accepting it. “That is all. You can see how small they are.” 

“Yes, dangerously so,” Sten agreed. He looked over at the curtained off area, and I half-thought I saw concern in the stoic face. “One ambush crippled them.” Yes, well… “This makes sense.” And then he walked away. Okay then. 

“I must admit,” I began, watching him walk off. “I’m surprised they have a word for it.” Given how he acted, I had assumed he’d have a low opinion of transgender people. 

“I believe it is simply an extension of the ‘you are born as you are, and you are foolish to strive for anything else’ mentality they have,” she murmured. She almost appeared thoughtful, even as I was confused. It was precisely _because_ of that mentality that I’d thought he’d dismiss them. “Perhaps, to them, it is little different than two bakers having different sized hands.” She shrugged, and I frowned a little. I… supposed that did make some sense. “I am merely speculating, mind. I’m simply glad he asked you, and not them.” 

“Yeah, Mithra might’ve tried to take an eye for that.” I sighed, thinking of the last time someone tried to insinuate she couldn’t be feminine because she hunted. Zathrian had a _long_ talk with her about using violence to solve issues. “Thank you, by the way. So, females are expected to know self-defense?” 

“From what I understand, yes.” She smiled slightly. “That’s why he doesn’t think there’s anything too odd with my knowing how to wield a bow.” Oh, that reminded me. 

“Master Varathorn wanted to take a look at your bow.” She tilted her head slightly in confusion and I shrugged. “He thinks it might be elven. I can sit with you while he looks, if you want to ask him questions.” 

“I… think I would like that.” This time, her smile was a bit wider. “Thank you. But, I must return to my errand.” 

“Yeah, thanks again.” I smiled and turned away, hearing her walk off behind me. And, nearby, I saw another very familiar face. “Lanaya!” 

“Oh, Cleon!” She smiled at me, setting aside some scrolls she was no doubt studying. Having fought for the title of First, she took her role as a learner very seriously. “I heard you were here,” she told me, skipping to my side and bouncing a little on her toes. I wondered if it was a First thing, to have a bit of child-like enthusiasm when around friends. Merrill was like that too. “And a Wardens. There’s a story about them!” 

“And no doubt a few poems,” I teased. She flushed and sulked at me. “It’s not my fault you ramble out poetry at the slightest chance.” I leaned away to avoid her half-hearted swat. “I don’t want to disturb you long, but it seemed rude to not say ‘hello’ when you’re right there.” 

“Yes, no doubt your aravels will be prepared.” She sulked a little longer before looking up at me with concerned, thoughtful eyes. “Cleon? Might I ask a sensitive question?” I nodded without hesitating. Lanaya was always careful with her questions, and when she said ‘sensitive’, it meant she didn’t want you to answer if it was too much. She was always a peacekeeper, even better than Marethari and Zathrian. “How are things with Merrill?” Of course, her question hit me like arrows. Sudden and surprisingly painful. 

Still, she said nothing more as she waited for me to figure out a reply. And I did very much have to think of it, closing my eyes to better focus my thoughts. I… still loved Merrill. Very much, in fact. But, I wasn’t very certain she’d like this… weaker me. This me who seemed unable to make a true difference. Not like when I was a hunter, and could protect the Clan so easily. 

So… “We plan to talk about it when we next meet,” I finally answered. I looked to the ground, hand brushing over the ring hidden under my gloves. 

“I see.” I made a face as she reached up to pet my head, and her laughter dispelled the awkwardness. “Thank you for answering.” She smiled kindly. “I have those sweets you like in my aravel, by the way. Let’s share and gossip later.” 

“Sounds good.” Lanaya was always sweet like that. “Luck with the studying.” 

“Thank you! I need it.” She scowled at the scrolls. “I really wish the rest of it was as easy to translate as ‘eluvian’.” And I _felt_ myself reel. My stomach plummeted and I had the urge to be sick. No. No, no, no. I didn’t want _anyone near those thrice-damned things again!_ “Cleon?” 

“Burn it.” Her eyes widened and I shook my head. “No, I mean…” I took a shuddering breath to try and calm down. It only partially worked. “Don’t go near one. They’re not… they’re not right anymore.” 

“I see.” Her hand was on my back, rubbing soothing circles. “I will tell Zathrian. If you can, before you leave?” I knew what she was asking and slowly nodded. “Ma serannas, lethallin.” She gently nudged me, in a manner so similar to Zathrian I _had_ to laugh. “You should take the opportunity to nap. You won’t get much time tonight!” Yeah, I knew how Clans could get. 

“Until later, Lanaya.” I smiled and waved, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. I… didn’t want to think of what Lyna or Merrill would think, after everything that happened. Ah, Creators, what was _Tamlen_ thinking, watching from Falon’din’s realm? Was he yelling at me? He probably was. 

“Oh, Cleon~” A warm hand wrapped around my arm like a tourniquet and I looked to see Morrigan next to me. I supposed she was done with the infirmary. “Wonderful timing!” she purred, smiling at me and pressing herself ever so slightly into my side. “They say our accommodations are ready, so we need to move our things in.” Ah, they were? Lovely. 

“That’s good,” I murmured, looking up at the sky. The trees overhead swayed in the wind, playful and light. I found it strange. Typically, the forest would reflect the fortunes of the Dalish, the spirits sensitive to the emotions. What was it thinking? Why was it laughing? …Why was I even asking? I’d never thought much of such things before now. Was it the magical instinct in me screaming at something I couldn’t see? “We’ll be able to rest easily. They’re sturdy.” 

“’Twill be cold, though, all alone.” She pitched her voice to sound mournful, even pathetic. She was a good actress. I could see the smirk in her eyes. 

“The Dalish make good blankets.” I smirked back, unable to resist playing. She had fun reactions. And an adorable pout. “I’m sure you’ll warm up fairly quickly.” 

“Perhaps you might help me?” She leaned a little forward, a habit she had, and I decided to hold still this time. Her smirk widened, as if she thought she was winning. “I happen to find you quite warm.” 

“Maybe next time.” I stepped to the side, and laughed as she stumbled, scowling up at me. “No doubt I’ll be kept up sharing gossip. Dalish love talking.” 

“I suppose.” Her eyes glittered, and I had a feeling she was enjoying chasing, probably more than she thought she would. “I’ll hold you to that ‘next time’.” I smiled, giving away nothing. “Later, Cleon.” 

But as she walked off, my smile faded, the good humor forgotten as I realized something. That… wasn’t something I did much in the Clan, either. Playing like that. It came naturally, but I hadn’t… when I courted Merrill, I had been more shy, more awkward. Why was I so different now? 

Finally alone for the first time since arriving, I turned slowly, looking at the camp. I knew this place. I knew it almost as well as I knew the camps of my own Clan. I knew these people. 

But as I stood there, seeing all the familiar pieces, all I could think was how much of a stranger I felt. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Yeah, sorry, no forest this time. I wanted to focus on Cleon and his inner thoughts here, since this is the first time he’s reunited with any Dalish since leaving his Clan. And also show how slow the group is at the beginning to act, still being disoriented from the events at Ostagar. Sten’s term for transgender people comes from Inquisition, during a conversation with Bull and Krem. Players of Inquisition might recognize the name of Cleon’s father as the name of someone else. I am making the assumption that the treaties were made after the Fourth Blight, and Zathrian is canonically centuries old. MOST dialogue with the Dalish comes up with a Dalish Warden (the most interesting to me being the information on a Dalish!Warden’s father; the part about speaking about learning the ways of humans is DIRECTLY from the game).  
> Next Chapter – Layla learns what’s happened to the Tower in her absence


	42. Chapter 37) Tower

**Chapter 37) Tower**

* * *

__  
It was large. That’s all I could think as I was escorted inside. It was large, in the middle of a lake, connected to land by only a broken bridge. The  
air inside sparked and writhed, like it was alive, and I shook in both fear and awe. What was this place? Why was I here? Did it have something to do  
with the fire? Was it because Daddy tried to hurt me?  


_“Ah, is this her?” A gentle looking old man appeared in front of me, crouching down to smile right into my eyes. “I am Irving, child,” he greeted. “Welcome to Kinloch Hold, Tower of the Circle.” He took my hand and I tentatively smiled at how warm it was. “Let’s get you set up with the other apprentice mages, shall we?”_

* * *

Something was wrong. Something was wrong, wrong, _very_ wrong. A templar was on the docks, guarding the boats, on orders. I knew him as Carroll, a templar particularly sensitive to lyrium, who was very skilled despite a rather child-like personality. He was friends with Godwin, and more stubborn than a mule! 

“I have _told_ you! I have strict orders not to let _anyone_ pass.” Carroll planted his feet to better emphasize his words. I should be grateful he had not drawn blade. 

“But we _need_ to get to the Tower,” I insisted, barely checking the urge to stamp my feet like a child. I held up the treaty, hoping it would help my case. “We are Wardens. I need to- 

“Oh, fancy!” He was completely ignoring me. “I’ve some documents too. They say I’m the queen of Antiva.” I was also being mocked. I wanted to cry from misery and frustration. “What do you think of that?” 

“You’ve gotten quite a bit uglier than, my lady.” I glanced back to see Nuada walk up, face lit up by a cheerful smile. I thought he and Leliana had gone to get information from the INN here. “Would you like to try that against someone who has actually met the Queen of Antiva, kind sir?” he asked, coming up to my side… and then standing in front of me a little, PROTECTIVELY. “Clearly, you must be the epitome of wit, to insult a charming woman trying to do her job.” W-well, he was trying to do _his_ too… did he just call me ‘charming’? “Your commanding officer will be _most_ displeased at you warding us off.” 

“Yes, indeed!” Leliana skipped up to my other side, hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her feet in a swaying, dancing motion. “We sent word hours ago that we would be arriving,” she CONTINUED easily. I tried to not gawk at the _incredible_ lie. “Did you not see the pretty little raven flying overhead?” We did not have ravens! “We were delayed severely, and are quite late as is.” Leliana leaned forward slightly, smiling sweetly. “You wouldn’t want to make him mad at you, will you?” 

“W-well… no…” Carroll mumbled, absently scratching his cheek. He hummed a little in thought before sighing. “All right. You can pass.” I cannot believe that lie worked. “So, I’ll just-“ 

“I know how to sail a boat,” Nuada interrupted. He still appeared quite cheerful, but something about the nonchalant demeanor just struck me as _mean_. “Mother wouldn’t let me learn how to sail a ship until I got the basics, after all.” P-pardon…? “So, we’ll take care of that. You return to your very important duties. Sir.” Nuada took me by the hand and tugged me after him to the docks. Leliana skipped behind us, giggling a little. “Nice storytelling, Lady Bard.” 

“Why, thank you~” Leliana giggled. I ignored them both to kneel by one of the boats, still feeling miserable as I ran a hand through the cold water. “Still, I think you should’ve accepted his help. Maneuvering a boat is harder than it looks, you know.” 

“Dear Leliana, are you accusing _me_ of lying?” Nuada’s voice was almost comical in its indignation. “Alack, alay! Whatever did I do to deserve such doubts?” A hand appeared in my vision and I looked up to see Nuada smiling down at me. “Here, let me help you onto the boat, Layla.” The last time… someone did that… Commander Duncan had been the one who… but he was dead, now. He was dead, and here I was, on a boat again… “Layla?” 

“M-my apologies!” I squeaked, taking his hand quickly and pulling myself up. I refused to look up. “Um… I am sorry, for not being able to get us past.” Truly, I must be a useful addition to the group, being only able to heal. I had been so proud to pass my Harrowing, but now I felt more like a child than anything. 

“No, I should be sorry for just jumping in.” His hand tightened on mine. “I just got angry when I realized he was mocking you and acted before I could think twice.” I glanced up, but he was looking away from me, studying the boat. I thought… there might be a redness to his face, though. “So, let’s actually get into the boat.” Ah, yes! 

Hesitantly, I stepped in, using Nuada as a point of balance as I tried to find my footing and sat down on the far end, gripping the sides as Nuada let go of me to help Leliana in. Unlike me, she stepped with confidence, sitting in the middle cross-legged. “Hey, Layla?” she began as Nuada climbed in behind her and started untying the boat from the dock. I made some noise to tell her I was listening, looking up at the starry sky. How long had I been arguing with Carroll? “When we’re done here, how about I give you some lessons in how to appear strong and confident?” Pardon? “There are a couple of easy tricks, and they are truly quite useful.” I… was not sure if it would work but I nodded anyway. She giggled and beamed. “Excellent! I’ll prepare the lessons!” 

“You and Elspeth can tag-team.” Nuada’s suggestion was paired with the rope dropping into the boat with us and the boat slid forward through the water. “But for now, keep your balance. We’re off.” 

Nodding, I twisted to stare at the scenery. The dark brought a mist to the lake that lingered and writhed in the wind, a cold that made the air heavy and harsh to breath. The broken, ruined bridge that had once connected the Tower to land jutted out of the mist overhead, the moonlight turning it a sickly grey. What _scared_ be, though, was how dark the Tower was in the distance. There were no signs of candles, and late night experiments. As the water sloshed around us, parting with protestations to allow us to pass, I thought it looked like a tomb. What had happened? What wrong with my home? 

Leliana struck up a song as Nuada easily sailed us around rocks and clinging seaweed. It was a language I didn’t know, but the melody was lilting, soothing, just like a lullaby… or an elegy. I prayed it was simply the former. I could not bear it if the _Tower_ was like Ostagar. 

* * *

There was blood.

There was blood splattered on the walls, droplets dripping down. There was blood oozing into the cracks of the floor, spreading out like veins. There was blood smeared on the faces of running templars, muddying with sweat. What… what was…? 

I stood in the entranceway, just staring. Nuada and Leliana were at my sides, but if they said anything, I could not hear it over the roaring in my ears. The smell of elfroot was almost overpowering, but the metallic tang of all the blood stagnated in the air, making it so very hard to _breathe_. 

I made myself take a step, and from there it was almost easy to walk, so long as I did not think and simply looked around. The templar in the corner, cradling a badly bandaged stump to her chest… I knew her as one of the templars who often stood guard when the female mages bathed. Leaning on the wall near her, with a shattered breastplate revealing ragged, jagged claw wounds, was a templar I had seen often in the infirmary for some bruised eye. The templar who had often helped the apprentices play pranks… they were curled up on their side, shoulders shaking with each shuddering breath. There were so many I knew by sight, could put actions to their faces… but I also knew, keenly, that there were _far too few_ here. Where were the others? Where were the mages? Where…? 

“…And I want two men stationed within sight of the doors at all times.” There was Knight-Commander Greagoir! Oh, thank the Maker! …But… he wasn’t talking to his Knight-Captain, and I did not see Irving nearby as I slowly approached. “Do _not_ open them without my express consent!” And he had blood dripping down his face, a barely scabbed gash on his neck. “Is that clear?” What happened? _What happened?!_ “Now we wait and pray…” And I froze because he turned and happened to see me, blinking slowly. “I’m seeing a ghost.” 

“Knight-Commander…” I began slowly. My voice wobbled, and I clasped my hands behind my back to hide their trembling. “I’m home?” 

“…Yes, and a proper Grey Warden or something, right?” I was not sure if I was a proper _anything_ really. “Glad you’re not dead. Irving was moping.” His words were brusque, but I could see him making an effort to smile. He looked so tired, though. “But what are you doing here? This… isn’t a situation for Wardens.” 

“What _is_ going on?” I glanced around and saw something that I could not.. quite… comprehend. “Why… are the great doors barred?” I had always known them to be open, not shut tight with iron bands and templar blade. 

“That-“ A scream cut him off and I whirled to see a templar recruit collapsed, sobbing by another templar. I almost wondered why they were crying by their sleeping friend, but then saw how… the ‘sleeper’ was missing half their torso. “…Never mind. Layla, did you come alone?” I shook my head and pointed to where I _had_ left Nuada and Leliana. Realizing they were not there, I hunted for them, and found Nuada helping to carry a templar with a tourniquet on their leg to some bedding. Another bout of looking revealed Leliana was threading a needle, eyeing a templar’s arm that looked shredded. “Might I ask for the three of you to assist? We can talk when things are calmer.” 

“Of course.” What else could I do? Oh, Maker, why? Why would you let this happen?! 

* * *

It felt like three days before we finished getting everyone still alive cleaned up and bandaged. I knew it could not have been that long, of course. But  
each injury seemed to have eaten up hours, made even longer by the refusals for healing magic, forcing me to rely simply on poultices and needles to keep  
them from bleeding out. The wary, even terrified, stares at my back as I worked had nearly sent me into tears.

But, finally, things calmed and Knight-Commander Greagoir led the three of us off to the side. He looked even more tired than before, but I was certain we did not look any better. Certainly, our hands were patchy with dried blood and we were coating in elfroot infusions and sweat. Nuada even had bite wounds on his arms from where he prevented templars from biting off their tongues in pain. 

“I shall speak plainly,” Knight-Commander Greagoir began without any sort of preamble. I stiffened at the words; they never meant anything good, especially from him. “The tower is no longer under our control.” …Ha… haha… that was a very funny joke, sir. That was a very… funny… oh Maker, it was not a joke, was it? The Knight-Commander _never_ joked about anything. So… “Abominations and demons stalk the tower’s halls.” Why…? Why was this happening? H-how many were… how many of the people I grew up with were _dead_?! “First Jowan, and now this. We’ve been too complacent, it seems.” Oh, and this… was going to be used as justification for… the other Circles would… oh, why? Why did this happen? Someone, please, tell me what the _point_ of this was?! Please… “I should’ve been more vigilant, and urged Irving to be more wary.” I was going to sob. I was going to faint. I was going to be sick. Why? Just… why? Wasn’t Ostagar enough?! Why my home too?! 

“Where’s the First Enchanter?” While I was doing my best to not fall apart, Nuada was calm. I hated him, right then. My home was breaking and he was _calm_! I could have hit him, if I could will myself to do anything but not shake. “Is he among the victims?” I was going to hurt him! Don’t just casually say-! 

“We saw only demons, hunting templars and mages alike.” I was not sure if Leliana saw or sensed me flailing or not, but she wrapped a gentle, reassuring arm around my shoulders, and I leaned on her heavily. I… “I realized we couldn’t defeat them and told my men to flee.” Templars fleeing was _always_ a bad sign. Ah… someone help. Please, someone, anyone, just tell me what to do and help! “We shut the doors behind us.” What of the people left behind?! They could’ve been… oh, Maker, was everyone going to die like at Ostagar? 

“To contain the abominations, and lessen the chances of them figuring out how to cross the lake.” STOP BEING CALM, NUADA! “Are you calling for the Right of Annulment?” Everything froze at the words. Those words… they meant the Circle was gone. Everything and everyone would be razed to the ground, nothing surviving. Even the books and experiments worked on would be obliterated, as if they had never existed. I… They were all going to die, going to be wiped from history, and I… 

“Yes, I have already sent word.” I was going to be sick. I would have collapsed if Leliana had not been holding me up. “The situation is too dire, and I have no alternatives, sadly.” Why? Why? Why? Why was this…? 

“With all due respect, Knight-Commander, but you do.” H-huh? “We’ll head in.” N-Nuada…? “You can’t risk your templars, yes? You are a leader, and no matter what your personal desires are, you _must_ think of your people first and foremost.” Slowly, very slowly, I waded out of my thoughts and actually _focused_ on both him and Knight-Commander Greagoir. The latter was startled; the former still looked calm, even a little confident. “But _we_ are not your soldiers. You don’t have an obligation to PROTECT us.” 

“If anyone is alive, then the Maker himself has shielded them!” 

“I believe people make their own miracles, _ser_.” Somehow, that last word sounded like a curse, despite Nuada’s smile. “You lose nothing by letting us head in, you know. At worst, you would have hoped and found nothing, a painful feeling but one you are expecting in this situation. At best, you have mages and no need to call the Right, correct?” I had never seen Knight-Commander Greagoir so speechless. Was it because… he _wanted_ to go in? “So, what will it be, Knight-Commander? You’ve a duty to your people, and to Fereldan, but you’ve also a duty to your charges.” 

Silence reigned before Knight-Commander Greagoir sighed. “A word of caution.” His face was so serious, heightened by how straight he stood. “Once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back.” …I was feeling sick again. “The great doors _must_ remain barred. I cannot open them until I have proof it is safe.” 

“Is the proof Irving?” My voice was quiet, but surprisingly strong as I asked. Knight-Commander Greagoir nodded. “Very well.” So, if Irving was dead, then the Tower would be razed. That was… Irving was strong, but he was old, and… and this was an ambush and… 

“May Andraste lend you her courage, if you decide to press on.” He walked away, one heavy footstep at a time, armor clunking with each movement. I… could not think. I truly, _truly_ could not think. 

“I got mad again,” I heard Nuada sigh. I looked up to see him running a hand through his hair, looking quite put out over something. “I need to stop reacting to things.” I… had thought him to be quite calm? “I’m sorry. I should have talked to you two before arguing.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” Leliana demanded, sounding almost outraged at the prospect. She even had her hands on her hips, glowering up at him. “This is the right path, no question to it. Hope is painful, yes, but to just deny the possibility… that is a fate worse than death!” I… “Layla agrees, I’m sure.” W-well… I… 

“I want… to save someone…” I mumbled. I looked down, unable to help it, and my bloody fingers twisted into the skirt of my robe, staining it. “I want… to find someone, anyone, and save them. I don’t… I don’t want…” 

“The Tower shouldn’t fall because some idiot decided abominations could be controlled or whatever nonsense they came up with,” Nuada scoffed. I thought there was something dark in his eyes as I glanced up, and I wondered why. Then I remembered Highever. Did it… have something to do with…? But he always seemed to deny it happened? “So, into whatever horrors await us?” 

“Yes.” To my surprise, that _one_ word was firm. It gave me the courage to lift my head up fully, and look them straight in the eye. “Please, help me save my home.” They both smiled and nodded, no trace of fear in their eyes. I wished I could feel the same. But there was no turning back now. We were heading in, and we would not leave until we dealt with the threat. H-however… it was we had to do it… 

Maker, I hated you so much for this. I hated you so very much. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: Sorry for the slowness again, but like with the other group, I wanted to show the group still flailing under the whole ‘take charge’ idea. Poor Layla just keeps getting hit while down, huh? I decided to showcase Carrol for the funny conversation… and well… he shows up in an unexpected way in Inquisition? Ahah? (I was so startled by it) Also, apologies for how long it took to get this up. Life has been a tad hectic. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Brecilian Forest with Aiden


	43. Chapter 38) Forest

**Chapter 38) Forest**

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_Round and round I went. Where would I stop? Only Shianni, Neria, and Soris knew. Because they decided to play tag and I was it. Or, I was supposed to be. Instead, I was just lost in the Alienage, somehow, and now staring at these strange looking puppies curled up in a drain. What were they doing there?_

_“Aiden!” I looked up to see Dad and Mom racing for me. “There you are!” Dad breathed, sweeping me up in a hug. I squirmed, wanting to watch the puppies more. “Aiden, stop moving.”_

_“…Since when do wolves appear here?” Mom’s voice was curious and Dad put me back on the ground as he went to her side. I pushed between them to look at the puppies again. “White wolves, too. Didn’t Valendrian say those only appeared in the Brecilian forest?” Really?_

_“Well, let’s get them to him.” Dad took off his patched jacket and carefully wrapped it around the puppies. Mom helped as they squirmed, whimpering in protest of the movement. “Aiden, why did you stop to look at them?”_

_“Why not?” I asked back, tilting my head. “They looked out of place. I wanted to help.”_

_“And this is why Valendrian wants to steal you.” Huh? “Come on. Let’s get them help, Aiden.”_

_“Okay!”_

* * *

I hated red. I really, really hated red. I would never call Mistress Layla a ‘redhead’ again. Orange, ginger, not red. Red meant blood. Blood meant injury. And injury meant… lots and lots of _dead_ and I was going to be so, so sick and- 

“Aiden.” I whirled, pommel coming up to strike whoever it was in the head, but a shield blocked it. I… knew that shield, yeah? That was… Alistair’s? “Okay, that was stupid of me. Middle of a panic and we were _just_ fighting.” Sure enough, his face peeked around the shield with a smile. I blinked slowly, not quite processing everything. “Aiden, if you can’t hear me, I might be stuck leading, and we’re going to get lost somewhere without pants.” That startled a laugh out of me. “Good, your coloring is getting back to normal. You were a pasty brown color, not the nice light sepia.” What color was ‘sepia’ again? Red-brown? It didn’t come up a lot. “Focusing again?” I… you know what? I was. 

“I can’t tell if you’re an idiot or brilliant.” Though _clearly_ not recovered enough to keep my thoughts _in my head_. “I… uh…” 

“Oh, I’ve heard worse.” That didn’t make it better. “So, for future reference, any idea what causes you to spiral?” …Um… “Never mind. You can tell me later.” The shield came down and Alistair’s smile warmed, and I definitely tried to think if he was brilliant or lucky. “Werewolves have stopped attacking.” Yes, because what had started all this was us walking straight into an ambush which resulted in separating the group. Hopefully not far. Though, now that I was looking… 

“Why am I covered in more blood than you?” More _red_. I felt my skin crawl and some part of me really just wanted to jump in the nearest river to get it off, safety be damned. The rest of me logically pointed out that doing so here would be very bad, but… 

“Because, for some reason, the werewolves didn’t focus nearly as much on Elspeth, Sten, and me, especially compared to how they went after you, Cleon, and Morrigan.” Prejudiced against elves and mages? Well, they fit right in with the rest of Thedas the… why was I thinking that? Now wasn’t the time! “Strange how much like everyone they are!” Alistair’s smile was strangely innocent and I just decided to ignore him to push the hair out of my face. I told myself that it was wet with only sweat. “Well, except the hating Qunari part. I guess they don’t mind the wars nearly as much.” I really couldn’t help but give him a look and he had the gall to laugh. “Yeah, I know. Chantry likes holding onto grudges. Look at the verses they struck out. Shame. Shartan’s was fun to read.” …Wait, he _read_ the… never mind. Later. “You look calm again. Are you?” Did he ramble all that to give me time to get my breathing even? Really? 

“…Yeah, I think so.” I just… wouldn’t look down. I’d just hook my greatsword to my back and ignore the ground. “Did you see where the others went? I… didn’t.” 

“Morrigan and Cleon went _that_ way.” Alistair pointed to a point a little ahead. “Might want to leave them alone.” Alistair made a face and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I swear; she just wants to… suck his blood out or something.” 

“I doubt that’s what she wants to suck.” And Alistair turned bright re… pink. Maybe I shouldn’t have… “Sorry.” 

“N-no, don’t be!” Alistair waved my apology away, even as he turned pinker. “I… uh… okay, let’s just say I got the Chantry version of the Talk and it’s _awkward_.” …Right, Chantry raised. “Besides, not like I… um… have experience or anything, so…” He shrugged, and I did my best to keep from laughing. “Not that I mind, but it makes things even more awkward because I really only have that talk to go on and… and I’m just going to shut up now, okay?” If he wanted to? 

“Let’s fine Lady Elspeth and Sten.” Alistair smiled sheepishly, for some reason, and led the way around the bend to where those two were. And, lo and behold, there they were. Some minor scratches, but surprisingly fine. I guess Alistair was right. They did leave them alone, for the most part. 

“Oh, hello,” Lady Elspeth greeted. Her bow was slung over her back, and her quiver was… full? How? …Did she remove them from the bodies? That… um… Oh, the scars on my neck throbbed in remembered pain. Even if corpses didn’t… you know… feel pain… “I’m glad to see you’re well.” I… actually read that. It was a subtle, more subdue smile, but… huh. Either she was getting more open, or I was getting better. Was it prideful to assume the latter? “Sten and I cooperated to throw one over there.” She pointed to what seemed to be nothing but trees. “He hasn’t moved from there yet. He is breathing, though.” I… was more confused by what she meant by ‘cooperate’. 

“They saw her bow and engaged her in close quarters.” And Sten was explaining. Yay. “She dodged and I hit him with the flat of the blade,” he reported easily. If not for the crossed arms, his posture really would’ve given the impression of military reporting… wait, that was what he _was_. I needed to think better. “She then provided covering fire while I removed their heads from their necks.” I was definitely going to just take his word for that. “Will you question?” I… you know what? 

“Yes, I will,” I answered. He nodded… and I thought it was approving. “Track down Cleon and Morrigan, you three.” Wait, I just gave orders to a-! 

“That sounds good,” Lady Elspeth noted. She gave me a small smile, and I slowly tried to calm down my racing heart. Okay, wasn’t offended. Yes, leader, but why did I have to give orders? I _took_ orders! Maybe? …I was going to stop thinking for a bit. 

A brief glance back showed the three doing exactly as I asked, and I really couldn’t get used to that. So, I sighed and slid made my way down to where Lady Elspeth had pointed. Just as she and Sten said, there was a werewolf at the base of one of the trees. Tall and strong, and _conscious_ , just my luck. They watched me cautiously. Carefully. Okay. What do I do _now_? 

“You speak to Swiftrunner.” Aaaand the werewolf spoke first. Which… was never mentioned in the few stories I’d heard. A strange, growling and slurred speech, like they had only recently learned, and were still learning how to ‘correct’ it. “I lead my cursed brothers and sisters.” So, the pack leader? Splendid. Now, if only I knew how to question people! “Turn back.” Um… “Tell the Dalish you failed.” There was more of a growl in the words now, which made it hard to understand them. “Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer the same curse we have suffered!” Oh. Yay. Vengeance. “Tell them we will make them pay!” 

“Then why didn’t you attack the children?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I saw Swiftrunner still at them. So, I continued, “I noticed. Not a single child even scratched.” Based on how easily they played with Alistair, I’d even guess they had made sure to not get _near_ them. “So why? Let’s talk.” 

“Was it not Zathrian who sent you?” I never knew you could spit out a name so hatefully. “He only wishes our destruction. Never to-“ 

“I am not Zathrian.” I was right. There _was_ something more to this. Cleon was going to be mad… or betrayed. I hoped not the latter. There’d been enough betrayal. “I am not even Dalish. I was born and raised in the City, proud of my roots.” They hesitated again, so I pressed on, “ _I_ want to talk. _I_ want to know more about this Witherfang.” I wanted to know what was going on. 

“…Witherfang is the first and eldest.” They actually relaxed, so I tried not to wonder why ‘first’ and ‘eldest’ were supposedly different. “This forest is his home, and you will never see him.” Well… “If you are lucky.” Right, now I _was_ definitely going to see him. Our group only had enough luck to _not die_ in bad situations. “Witherfang only appears to those who fate has marked for terrible and glorious destiny.” I remembered King Cailan stating the battle of Ostagar would be ‘glorious’. It felt like a long time ago. “Turn back now.” I… 

“I can’t retreat, but I don’t want to fight.” How could I get through to him? 

“I do not wish to fight either.” Wait, really? “But we cannot trust you.” …I could understand that. “Run back to the Dalish. The forest has eyes of its own, and will deal with intruders as it always has.” Um… 

With a powerful leap that told me they’d just been waiting to see what we’d do, Swiftrunner disappeared. In a blink, I had no idea where they were. Great. Back to wandering or something. 

“Aiden!” I looked up and saw Cleon hanging off a tree trunk, hand outstretched. I took it without hesitation and he pulled me back onto the path. He had bandages on his arms, and a scab on his neck. Nothing that looked like a bite mark, thankfully. “Sten said you were interrogating,” he said. I sighed and shrugged; he grimaced in reply. “Nothing?” 

“They don’t want to fight, they hate Zathrian, there is definitely more to all of this than we were told, Witherfang is definitely around here, the forest is guarding them, and basically we’re in the middle of trouble again,” I rattled off with another sigh. The unspoken ‘and there is no one to drag us out of it this time’ echoed harshly in my head. Why couldn’t we just _follow_? I didn’t want to lead. I didn’t want any of us to lead. “So, two new things, three confirmed things.” I had a headache. “How are you and Morrigan?” 

“As you can see, I’m just fine.” Cleon held up his hands for emphasis, and smiled wryly. “If you pay attention, you can hear Morrigan grousing about flea-bitten mongrels that don’t deal well to ice and entropy.” What in the Void was ‘entropy’? Still, he was right. A moment’s quiet brought Morrigan’s familiar complaining on the wind. “Since the area looked secure, figured we’d bandage up.” Good idea. Just… 

“There’s… no bodies around, right?” Cleon blinked slowly at me, and I wasn’t sure how to explain the sick feeling in my gut at the thought of seeing more red, the feeling of suffocation. …Which I’d probably see more of because _injuries_ and… I needed to stop thinking. “Clear?” 

“Yeah…?” Cleon still looked confused, but thankfully just shrugged. Maybe attributed it to ‘city elves’. “Ready to join.” 

No. “Yes.” 

* * *

After some quick bandages, and checking to make sure none of the werewolves actually _bit_ any of us, we were back to wandering the woods. Cleon, being the only one of us who could tell the paths apart, was leading the way. As much as he could when he and Morrigan were openly flirting today. At this point, I was thinking Cleon was playing the ‘prey’ until he caught Morrigan, instead of Morrigan being the one chasing. I didn’t know, though. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. 

Sighing, I glanced around, trying to get a feel for things, and saw Alistair and Lady Elspeth standing close together behind me, making some mention of trees or leaves or… something. Whatever the conversation, it certainly held their attention. Neither seemed to notice how close they were. I wondered if they would, but decided against drawing notice to it. I had no idea just _what_ direction they were heading, and it was probably best to stay back for now. So, with them accounted for, that left… 

“Aiden.” Sten. Who really liked just appearing beside me. “Why are we wandering the woods?” he asked. I think it was ‘ask’. It might’ve been ‘demanded’. Trying to differentiate almost distracted me from the fact that I really didn’t have an answer. “You are a Warden, yes?” Unfortunately. “Your job is to defeat the Archdemon, not frolic among the trees.” Doesn’t he go to Lady Elspeth for questions like this? Or did he think she wouldn’t have an answer because she wasn’t a Warden? 

“Because until the Archdemon shows up, we don’t have a damn clue where it is,” I growled. Frustration slipping through. Damn it. “Just that it’s underground, in the Deep Roads, which literally span continents.” I gave him a look, glowering up in his eyes. “So, it is better to find allies to help us with our job. And by helping them, we make them owe us personally, instead of just owing a treaty.” Wow, I just came up with the most manipulative excuse ever. Since when did I think like this? 

“I see.” I braced myself for a counter, but known came. Instead… “Why have you not sought treatment?” For… uh… what? 

“I… have bandaged myself, yes?” I held up my arms for emphasis. Well, more like Alistair bandaged me, but that was neither here nor there. “See?” 

“I meant for your mind.” Huh? “Why have you not sought treatment for it?” Um… was he talking about how all of us were insane? “You suffer from Soldier’s Heart.” Uh… and that was…? “Panic attacks, nausea, avoidance of certain triggers.” Okay, I had to admit that _did_ sound a little bit like me, but that was… it was… “Some of the symptoms of Soldier’s Heart.” It was just in my head! …Right? 

“Well, how _does_ one go about getting treatment for it?” Better to just ask. “I’d never heard of it before.” Though it did remind me of when Lady Elspeth mentioned ‘battle dreams’? “And I doubt they’d help an elf.” 

“…Everyone here is backwards.” Ahaha… ha… “I will teach you exercises used to settle the mind.” Huh? “It will help you.” Uh… sure? “Ah, they’ve separated.” Who? Well, a glance ahead showed Cleon and Morrigan still playing, so I assumed he must be talking about Alistair and Lady Elspeth. “I should go.” Uh… okay…? Sten, force of nature who listened to no one. I just needed to hope his ‘calming exercises’ wouldn’t make me nearly as angry as his sparring matches did. 

“Aiden?” I blinked and saw Lady Elspeth approaching, keeping her distance until I nodded. “You seem confused,” she whispered as she came to my side. A glance back showed Alistair was now the victim of one of Sten’s lectures. Ouch… “Is everything all right?” No, we were in the middle of a giant forest, chasing down werewolves, and being used by someone for something we don’t even understand. 

“Yes, I am well,” I lied. I wasn’t sure if she believed me, but she nodded like she did. “Was there something you needed from me?” 

“Actually, yes.” She looked up at me, right at me, even as we walked. “I’ve a question, a serious one.” Uh oh. What did I do? “Frequently, when I have asked elves in the past about how we are treating them, I got praise and reassurance.” Well, yes, because- “Was that because they were talking to my face, because we are better than the alternatives, or because my family was actually helping?” And all my thoughts froze. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, and I couldn’t think of the words. Yes, appreciated the equal opportunity. Yes, appreciated the access to education. But… but the small alienage and… but I couldn’t say that to her _face_! She was a noble! And, more importantly, the Couslands really _were_ one of the only noble families who even _tried_ to help us elves! Who were _fair_ in the judicial system! “I see.” She gave me a wry smile, and I wondered what she gleaned from my silence. “Please tell me, later, when you are more comfortable, whether it was the first or second.” …I had no words, and she was… okay with that. I think. Maker, I hoped. 

Regardless, she ran up ahead, to talk with Morrigan and Cleon, Cleon smiling and Morrigan sulking at the flirting coming to an end. Or, at least, Morrigan sulked until she caught sight of _something_ on a nearby hill, and dragged Elspeth with her to investigate, leaving a baffled Cleon. Um… 

“That was weird.” Alistair and Sten jogged to catch up to me, and the three of us joined Cleon in watching the girls disappear behind some foliage. “Don’t suppose she said anything?” Alistair asked. Cleon shook his head. “Of course not.” To be fair, Lady Elspeth was _also_ very bad at explaining things unless you asked directly. “Hey, is that a camp?” What. 

I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, but no, Alistair was right. Just around the bend, still within sight of where Morrigan and Lady Elspeth went, was an old, abandoned campsite. How… strange. 

“We should look around,” Cleon suggested. He was already poking at a discarded pillow. “Maybe we’ll find some clues to where we need to go.” Or just get some well-needed rest. I was so tired of trees. “There’s definitely _something_ here. I can sense it.” I needed to get clarification on that. Later. “Might be bad.” Of course it was. 

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” And there was Morrigan, poking her head out from the bushes. “Well, while you’re poking around random pieces of junk…” Alistair wasn’t the only one who gave Morrigan a dirty look then. “Elspeth and I found something _truly_ interesting,” she continued, easily ignoring the glares. She pointed up the hill towards… a gravestone. Gravestone. What? Were we graverobbing now? “The script is old.” Okay? 

“It looks like ancient Tevene script!” Lady Elspeth stood up next to Morrigan and revealed another surprise of the day. Her stoic mask was replaced with a look of clear excitement. Flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes… I tried to think of a time, at all, I’d seen or even _heard_ of her acting like this, and came up blank. “By studying it, Morrigan thinks we might be able to glean some knowledge about the battles that were fought here in the past and…” Realizing we were all staring, Lady Elspeth snapped her jaw shut, and noticeably drooped “I-I’m sorry.” For what? 

“Why?” Cleon asked, echoing my thoughts. “That was the first time you acted your age that didn’t involve you snapping at me.” Cleon, was that really a thing to bring up?! “Not that I can talk, mind. I’m younger than you, I think.” …How old _were_ we all? Who was the oldest? Someone with experience take over please. “You two go have fun doing whatever. Someone needs to stand by in case you wake something up, though.” …The nonchalant way he said that made me _really_ wish I was back in the Alienage with Valendrian, Shianni, and Soris. 

“Alistair, you go,” I sighed. Alistair nodded, not bothered by the order. “Sten, keep an eye on both groups.” And _he_ nodded, not bothered either. Why were they listening to me? I didn’t know what I was doing. “Let’s investigate, Cleon.” 

Our group fell silent, listening to the wind blowing through the leaves and the movement of small animals in the bushes and flowers. I shifted through the ashes of the campfire to find nothing interesting and moved to check inside the haphazard tent all but falling down. And I felt… sleepy all of a sudden. Why did I feel… so sleepy…? That made… no sense… I was tired, but not… what was… going…? I… 

As screams echoed through the air, slamming into my ears, all I could think of was how _stupid_ we were, and how much I wished Master Duncan had survived so he could save us. 

* * *

I blinked slowly, not quite sure of what I was seeing. I thought it was a little bit of sunlight, filtering through leaves, but that… couldn’t be right. Wasn’t I supposed to be dead? And either in the Void or by the Maker’s side? Did the Maker live in a forest? Why? 

“Looks like you’re awake.” It took a moment for my eyes to focus on the face that appeared in front of me. An elf with markings on his face like I’d seen many of the Dalish, but his clothing was different. Different Clan? “Can you hear me?” I nodded and instantly regretted it because of the pounding in my head. “Ah, here.” There was a bit of glowing, and when it faded, it took the pain with it. “There we are.” The elf smiled, and bowed a little. “Can’t believe I forgot that little trick. Wynne would scream at me, again.” Who? I… knew that name. Layla had said it. “My name is Aneirin. I’m a bit of a wanderer. Dalish and Circle trained.” That sounded like a weird mix. “You are your friends are safe. I found you in time, and, though it might sound prideful, I was taught by one of the best Spirit Healers in the Circle before I ran. I still remember most of what she taught me.” I was more focused on how I could slowly feel the rest of my limbs and being relieved they were attached. “You and your comrades fell victim to a demon’s trap.” Morrigan, weren’t you supposed to know how to… I don’t know… make people not fall to that? “If you’re wondering how I found you all, I just followed the screams.” I was _more_ wondering where I was, but that was nice to know too. 

Carefully, I pushed myself up, finding that I was laying on some animal skin turned into a blanket. Little strange, but I wouldn’t complain. I glanced around and mentally counted all the sleeping bodies. No one missing. Good. But what all _happened_? How did we end up in a campsite that was very much intact? And why was there a set of armor not far from me? Where had _that_ come from? 

“Your friends disturbed the Revenants that guarded that, by the way.” What was a revenant and why would it be guarding armor? “Seems you stumbled on the legendary Juggernaut armor, if I read the script correctly.” The… the what? 

“A suit of armor infused with lyrium and blood magic, named for the golems that guard the gates of Minrathous.” Blinking slowly, I turned to see Lady Elspeth had not only woken up, but had already crawled next to me, studying the armor with bright eyes. “It was fashioned by the Magister Harach for Alaric, his friend and general, and Alaric returned the favor by winning many victories against the Clayne.” The Clayne were…? “However, Alaric’s lieutenants killed Alaric, and Harach, in fury, used the last of his life and blood to slay and bind them to guard the armor.” Um… “Oh, the Clayne were a powerful Alamarri tribe that used to dominate the lowlands here.” Oh, okay. Now that I had a basis, this was really fascinating. “They united under King Calenhad to form modern Fereldan.” 

“You’re really adorable when you’re rattling things off like that.” _That_ absent comment came from Alistair, and Lady Elspeth stared at him in confusion over it. Not that Alistair noticed. He was busy poking the armor. When had _he_ woken up and made his way over to me? “Well, it _seems_ safe,” he noted. I must’ve made a noise as he looked at me. “Oh, just checking for nasty little traps or something. Excess lyrium. That sort of thing.” Oh. Lovely. “Not seeing anything, though.” Well, good. But what were we supposed to do with it? 

“Since your companions slew the Revenants, the armor is yours,” Aneirin ‘helpfully’ informed us. I wanted to glare, but he was busy helping the others up. “So, have fun!” Maker, I wasn’t sure if I liked or hated him. 

Still, I sighed, and looked at the armor myself. Heavy and massive, so that automatically meant Alistair, Sten, or I would be wearing it. Lady Elspeth mentioned a magister had made it, so I was going to assume it wasn’t going to fit an elf. Or a qunari for that matter. So, that meant… 

“Alistair, see if it fits you.” Alistair looked at me as if I was insane, so I repeated, “Alistair, see if it fits you.” He opened his mouth to protest, but I really didn’t want to deal with it. “It’s got the best chance of fitting you, and if we’re keeping it, we’re not carrying it around.” It wasn’t as if we had some infinite storage backpack or something we could stuff pieces of armor in. “So, see if it fits.” Now, please. 

As Alistair sulkily listened to me, with Lady Elspeth helping him with the straps, I watched Aneirin carefully tend to Morrigan, Cleon, and Sten. Cleon seemed to even know Aneirin, striking a conversation easily. “Yeah, we’re helping out the Clan near here,” he was saying. I kept silent, just listening and watching. What part of the forest were we even _in_ now? How did Aneirin move all of us? Magic? “We’re hoping to get the aid of the Clans to help fight the Blight.” Less ‘hope’, more ‘we have no idea what else to do’. “Some of our other comrades are at the Tower.” And hopefully having an easier time than us! 

“The Tower, huh?” Aneirin hesitated before nodding to himself. “If… might I give you a necklace and message to give to a mage?” he requested softly, hands busy mixing _some_ sort of paste in a bowl. Huh? “I’m sure she’s still alive. Wynne was always full of fire.” Now I remembered that name! She was the mage who… had been with the healers at Ostagar and… uh… “Please? I very much regret never apologizing to her.” Cleon and I exchanged an awkward look, but both of us nodded. What else could we do? Especially when he smiled in relief. “Ma serannas!” I just hoped she survived to make it to the Tower. If she did, I was sure everything would be fine. …Okay, maybe not so sure. 

Shaking my head, I noticed Morrigan watching Aneirin work with curious eyes, so different from her normal haughty air. Huh. She must appreciate good worksmanship. I chose not to comment, and instead paid attention to Lady Elspeth and Alistair. Both were standing now, and I was pleased to see the Juggernaut armor seemed to fit Alistair quite well. Or, at least, I assumed. Certainly, neither was frowning at the armor. Though, it seemed like a set Alistair would have trouble putting on himself. Maybe I should just let Lady Elspeth always do it. Force them to make decisions and… okay, where were _these_ thoughts coming from? I never did things in the Alienage, did I? 

With a groan of protest, I pushed myself up and stretched carefully as my muscles keened bitterly at the change in position. As I did so, I saw Sten doing the same, and Cleon tucking a letter and amulet in his pouch. When had Aneirin written… did he _have_ it written already? Just in case? Wow, what sort of regret did he have to do that? Morrigan was folding something in a small piece of paper, while Aneirin passed her more. Okay, what _was_ that? 

“And that is why we’re going after the werewolves.” …When did Cleon explain everything to Aneirin? Or did he give him the abridged version? Probably that. “Which is why we’re in the forest in the first place, “ Cleon added with a grimace. Didn’t he _like_ this place? “It’s… much different from what I remember.” Oh, not what I wanted to hear. 

“I see,” Aneirin laughed. He passed Morrigan the last of whatever he’d been making. What was it?! “Well, if you’re seeking the werewolves, then you’ll need a way through the fog that guards their ruins.” Fog? I guessed it was something magical. Or maybe the werewolves just dismembered everyone when they were disoriented. “The Grand Oak can assist you.” The… the what? I almost asked, but Cleon simply nodded as if expected it. Maybe it was a strange name for another mage who lived around here? “But it’s hiding.” Of course. When was something _easy_ for us? “His acorn was stolen.” All this for an acorn? Weren’t there many all over the place? “Personally, I think it’s that hermit who’s made his camp nearby.” Thank the Maker Aneirin was willing to help out _without_ making us do complicated quests first! “If I’m right, then when you find it, just continue down the path and the Oak will appear to you.” How were we supposed to know which acorn it was?! This made no sense… 

“Understood.” GLAD IT MADE SENSE TO YOU, CLEON! “Ma serannas, Aneirin,” Cleon murmured, bowing slightly with a hand over his heart. The rest of us mimicked the bow as best as we could, just in case this was a proper Dalish custom. “We are very grateful.” 

“It was my pleasure.” Aneirin bowed in return, just the same, and I decided to ask Cleon, later, the importance behind the bow. Just in case we’d have to do something similar to our Dalish allies. If we got the Dalish as allies at this rate. “Safe travels.” Something told me our travels would be anything _but_ safe. 

Still, all of us knew to be polite, and we all smiled and nodded as we departed, Cleon leading us down the path again. And Cleon expertly found the camp Aneirin mentioned. With the hermit. Muttering to himself. 

“Oh, look! Not werewolves or spirits!” Oh, he was looking at us now. “What are these woods coming to?” What in the… I was confused. I was so, so confused. “Ah, questions… questions… they said they made me mad!” Sir, I really think you need some sort of help. Not in the woods. “Won’t you play a game with me?” What. “Ask a question, get a question. Give an answer, receive the same.” A… a question… game? Maker, this wasn’t the time for games. I had a headache and just wanted to get moving. 

And, apparently, Sten agreed with me. With one fluid motion, he unhooked his greatsword and swung, easily splitting the strange man’s skull. I flinched away from the red, red blood and looked up to the leaves above head. I probably shouldn’t have. It was unnerving how they didn’t so much as sway, like they didn’t care that a murder just happened at their… was I really thinking the trees sentient? I needed to get out of here. 

“Ah, good, Sten dealt with the crazed mage,” Morrigan deadpanned. I just blinked in confusion at the word ‘mage’. He’d been a mage? “I think I found the acorn.” She held it up with a dry look, like she couldn’t believe what was going on. Honestly, I doubted any of us did. _All_ of us had baffled looks. “It has some strange power within it.” Why would an acorn have _any_ sort of power? “So, shall we continue on and pretend this never happened?” Sounded good to me. 

I took a few steps down the path, or what I hoped was the path, and tried to figure out what exactly we were supposed to do to find the strange mage with the stranger name. A creak caught my ear and I suppressed a groan as I realized a tree was swaying a great deal. Was it about to fall? That would be my luck. 

“Hmm…” W-where was the voice coming from? “What manner of beast be thee?” It was very low, and very high, but all I saw were trees. “To come before this elder tree?” Wha…?! 

I could only stare in utter shock as the oak tree in front of me suddenly turned, leaves rustling with each movement, and I could see a distinct face peering down at us. I… uh… um… 

Well, what did you know? Something that creeped me out more than ogres and Archdemons. I really, _really_ could’ve gone my whole life not having that topped, thank you very much! 

* * *

With the help of the poet tree… I did not just think that pun. Urgh… regardless, with its help, we made it through the fog easily. So easily I wondered what it was _supposed_ to do. Still, though we made it, there was definitely… well, there weren’t werewolves. There were _signs_ of them all over the place. Half-eaten carcasses, furrows in the ground and walls, droppings… but no actual _werewolves_. Where were they? Were they preparing an ambush? 

“Careful, everyone,” I whispered as we walked through the entry room, kicking up dust. I was scared to talk any louder. “They know this place better than us.” Much better. “Search for a path.” Because we had nowhere else to go but forward at this point. “Sten, guard the entrance in case they come from there, please.” 

Perhaps sensing the need for quiet, no one argued. We all spread out, walking slowly, covering our mouths as the smell of dust mingled with the strangely lovely scent of fresh flowers. So, even in these broken ruins, things would grow, huh? That was rather comforting. 

A bit of vines and sunlight caught my eye and I turned to see a door all but hidden at the bottom of a leaf and petal covered staircase. Slowly and carefully, I headed down, slipping every few steps as the debris shifted unexpectedly. 

The door was warm when I placed my hand on it, and the handle shone. It had been used recently. I knew it had to be. If not, it would’ve been dull and tarnished. I’d spent enough time polishing doorknobs to know that. 

But it would turn when I tried. Locked. And, when I placed an ear against the door, I heard other things shifting on the other side. Barricade. This _was_ the way. Okay, so, if Morrigan cast a spell to weaken it, then Alistair, Sten, and I could take turns to knock everything down and- 

“Is someone there?” That… sounded much different than Swiftrunner. Low, feminine, with a strange little echo to the voice. Like they were speaking from far away. “Hello?” 

“Ah, yes?” I replied automatically. I glanced back and saw none of the others were near. Leaving me to converse with strange woman through a door. Right… This day was just full of weird things. 

“Splendid!” Well, they _did_ sound delighted. “I do not know your voice…” Sorry? “Tell me. Is Mahariel’s son in your group?” Mahariel? …Wait, wasn’t that Cleon’s last name? 

“Do you mean ‘Cleon’?” 

“Yes!” They… sounded really relieved. Cleon, who did you all know?! “Listen to me.” Well, my only other option was to walk away, so… “The door is barricaded.” I figured that out already, thank you. “There is a long way around.” Why would I take the long way when the short way was a spell and a hundred bruises away? “It will buy me the time to calm Swiftrunner and get him to agree to parley.” …Okay, they were trying to help us do this relatively peacefully. If it meant not seeing more _red_ … 

“Okay.” I nodded, even though I knew they couldn’t see. “I’ll do that.” 

“Thank you! Ma serannas!” Um… “What is your name?” Uh… 

“Aiden Tabris.” Why? 

“Tabris?” The person chuckled. What was so funny about my family name? “Being of Free Will. You will be a fine leader, with a name like that.” W-what was she talking about? Yes, Cleon and Lady Elspeth ‘named’ me leader, but… “I’ll be waiting. Hurry.” 

I opened my mouth to ask more, but there was a sound and I thought she might’ve disappeared. Okay, either I was talking to a ghost or someone just offered to help. Both, at this point, were equally likely. 

“Aiden!” And that was Morrigan yelling for me. “There is a path!” That must be the long way. “Are you sleeping?” Yeah, no. 

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair and climbed the staircase again. What a strange, strange… something. I wasn’t even sure I could refer to it as ‘day’ at this point. Because something told me this sort of thing was going to get very normal, very quickly, and I wasn’t sure how much I _liked_ that. If it did, then the Alienage wouldn’t ever feel like home again. Not like I could return there _anyway_ , but… 

I had a headache. Hopefully someone had a remedy in the packs. 

\- 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note – I simultaneously love and hate the Brecilian Forest. I really, really do. So much lore, not a lot of plot, but not nearly as convoluted as  
> the other two for GETTING to said plot. Juggernaut’s description comes directly from the codex. Yes, Aneirin is here. Shifting things about to indirectly  
> fulfill Wynne’s companion quest. Aiden really feeling how unprepared he is for these responsibilities.  
> Next Chapter – Exploring the Tower with Nuada


	44. Chapter 39) Trapped

**Chapter 39) Trapped**

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_Fire danced in the air, twisting into flowers and animals racing over the ceiling. Ice crystals lingered against the pillars, tracing out shapes of people and battles. Lightning sparked, making the audience jump in surprise. Elspeth, beside me, tried to hide from the lightning. She hated storms, ever since we had to ride through one, but it would be rude to show discomfort. The two of us had to be the perfectly behaved children of Bryce Cousland, diplomatic representative of King Maric Theirin, even if she was scared, and I wasn't sure how much I liked how the templars glared at the mages who were entertaining the Viscount's guests._

_Another bit of lightning flashed through the air, marking a transition in the show. Elspeth's face locked up behind her mask of stone. I kept my smile on, clapping in feigned delight. The Viscount complimented Father about how well-behaved we were. It was just another day._

* * *

So, behind door number one was… a bunch of corpses. Behind door number two was… more corpses. Behind door number three was… oh, look, it's even more corpses. You knew things were bad when you weren't even surprised by it anymore.

I knelt down and picked up the body of a child, shifting my hands to hold their body together as I realized they had been cut in two. Sticky, congealed blood clung to my hands as I set them to the side, and checked the body hiding beneath. They were even younger, barely five, staring up at the world with frightened eyes, even in death. The hole in their chest was bigger than their head. I moved them next to the other and continued checking the bodies as meticulously as possible. A couple, I had to guess which body went with which head, but hopefully, I wasn't horribly off. There were also the two I had to carefully pry off the vanity, the caked blood almost gluing them to the mirror, but I managed to rest them on the floor, by the wall, just like the other fifty in the room. At least none were stuffed in the closet or dresser this time.

"How goes it with you two?" I asked as I walked out of the room. I wiped the blood on the walls. It wasn't like anyone would notice a little more blood. "Have you had any luck?" I poked my head inside the room across the hall and found Layla silently crying over some of the bodies, and Leliana whispering prayers. "I'll take that as a 'no'." I leaned against the doorframe, waiting for them to respond. My fingers dug into my arm as I realized the bodies Leliana was praying by were children no older than five, but I kept my expression still. Someone had to be the strong one here, and it was wrong to expect it to be Layla. Leliana had also fallen into tears upon the first child's corpse, so that left me. I wished I could be surprise, but this always happened. Why would it be any different among the Wardens?

"Oh, Nuada…" I focused on Leliana when I realized she had turned to face me. "Did you fare better?" she asked. I shook my head and she sighed. "I see." She glanced at the still crying Layla, and promptly switched to Orlesian. "I almost wish I was back in the Game. Cruel as it was, it made more sense than this." I didn't quite agree, but this really wasn't the time for a debate. "This is too much. I would not subject even an animal to such terrible fates."

Yes, but now was time for a subject change, before I cracked. "There are more rooms up ahead." Leliana sighed heavily, drooping. "Come on. Maybe it's tenth time lucky?" She mimed a blow at me and I grinned. I made sure to pat her on the shoulder as she walked past me, and she gave me a bitter, but gentle, smile in return.

As she walked down the hall to the next set of rooms, I moved to Layla's side. We really had to keep moving. This wasn't the time for mourning. There was too much to do.

"I never talked to them." I stilled when she suddenly talked. She glanced at me, briefly, before returning her attention back to the corpse in front of her. "I was always scared," she whispered, running her fingers through their matted, tangled hair. Even with the blood, the sunburst brand on their forehead shone. "I did not think them people. I did not think them alive, in the truest sense. I thought them dolls that just looked like people I'd known." Her voice shook and all I could think of was how I'd been angry, that day on the road she asked me about them, when I seemingly knew more about them than her. Of course, I would've.  _I_  wasn't threatened by the Rite of Tranquility, so it was  _easy_  for me to talk to Tranquil. "I was scared of becoming like them. I was scared of my friends becoming like them." It was stupid and short-sighted of me to have been angry about that. Thank the Maker I wasn't in a habit of speaking my thoughts. "I wish I had talked to them. I wish I had not been so scared." She laughed softly, and it sounded so broken. "I don't even know their name."

"Learn it when we get out of here." She looked at me in confusion, so I repeated firmly, "learn it when we get out of here, with whoever survived." Her wry smile screamed she had just about given up. "Hey, don't give up on them yet." I held out my hand and she took it with some hesitation to let me help her up. "There's still a chance for a miracle." This wasn't like… like the thing I wasn't acknowledging. They would've focused on protecting and persevering. "Come on. They taught you, yes? Then they must be strong."

"…I really do not get you." I smiled wryly. It wasn't the first time I heard that. "You say those words so easily." She looked me in the eye. "Do you believe them?" Honestly, I didn't. But there was no way I was going to let her know that. "Why say them?"

"You asked for help, and I keep my word." That, at least, I was confident in. "Let's catch up to Leliana."

"…Very well." She took a breath and rubbed roughly at her face. I didn't have the heart to tell her she just smeared blood over her cheeks. "If I can save even one person…" She nodded and marched past me. Shaking my head, I followed her into the bloodstained, corpse-riddled hallway, trailing behind to see  _if_  there was someone breathing. Of course, there wasn't. Maker, what had I been  _thinking_  telling that Knight Commander to let us in? Ah, well, I did it, and told Layla I'd help, so I'd better stop whining and get moving before something happened.

As if on cue, a strangled scream caught my ear from up ahead and I  _bolted_  down the hallway, realizing I couldn't see Layla  _or_  Leliana. Were they under attack? I shouldn't have lingered, damn it. I had better armor and a  _shield_. How could I be so stupid as to let them go a-

I swung into the room and my thoughts stilled as I blinked slowly, trying to process what all I was seeing. One, this was a rather extensive library. Two, there were… quite a few survivors. Certainly, there were more than I expected. I would guess we'd just changed the living to dead ratio from a flat zero to something around one in twenty?

The second thing was that the leader here was Wynne, from Ostagar. I was honestly quite surprised to see she'd survived, considering how  _that_  battle went. Since Layla had her face buried in her chest, I wondered if the 'scream' I had heard and simply been a surprised yelp. "You're alive… you're alive…" I could hear her sob, even as Wynne embraced her warmly. "Oh, Maker, you're alive…"

"Oh, there you are." I glanced down to see Leliana at my side. I chose to ignore how misty her eyes were. "Let's give Layla some time," she suggested. I sighed and nodded, reaching back absently to fix my ponytail. "Do you want to see what information we can find?" That… was a very good idea, actually. "I'll check on this half." She pointed to the left, and I shrugged to let her know I didn't care. "Meet you in a bit." Yeah, that sounded good.

With another shrug, I wandered towards the right, glancing at the books as I passed. Of course, I had barely taken three steps before I promptly found my legs accosted by tiny children. Well, this was awkward.

"I need my legs, you know," I told them. They just stared at me, poking repeatedly. Were… they checking if I was real? Oh, Maker, what did you put this kids through? Damn you. "Here." I lifted one of them up in the air, making them shriek in laughter, and set them on my shoulders. I'd done this enough with Oren. "How's that?" They just laughed, gripping my hair tightly. "Ow, hey, I do feel pain." One of the other three decided to suddenly jump and latch onto my arm, swinging and almost knocking me off-balance. "Whoa!" As I stumbled to adjust my footing, the remaining two little imps giggled and attached themselves to my legs much more firmly. Oh, I give up. "Okay, I get it. I'm your plaything." At least they were laughing.

"I swear; they  _do_  have manners." I carefully turned, the four children laughing loud enough to echo, to face a mage wearing yellow robes. "Sorry that they're bothering you," they murmured with a sheepish smile. I just smiled back, not really having another non-verbal way to reply. "I'm Petra, a senior enchantress here." She bowed to me. "You are…?"

"Nuada." There was no need to say my family name here. "I'm a Warden, like Layla. Leliana, the other redhead, is a traveling companion." I wondered how her investigation was going. "Do you mind telling me what happened here?"

"Sadly, I don't know much." She sighed, drooping. But she perked up again when the children swung about in laughter, and giggled when I stumbled under the momentum. "It all began when Uldred returned." Oh? "He tried to convince Irving and Greagoir to join forces with Teyrn Loghain." So, he  _did_  try to get the mages. "Irving and Greagoir, however, believed the Warden Commander's word of this being a true Blight, and thus refused." Ha! That was wonderful to hear! "Their position solidified when other Circle survivors returned from Ostagar." I would not think of how many managed to survive  _that_  only to die here. "Their description of the Archdemon was… horrifying, but in line with the texts." I wondered if they were conscious for Flemeth starting a dragon fight. "Though Wynne also mentioned a griffon?" Ahaha… ha… I was not commenting on that. "There was supposed to be a meeting, but then…" She shrugged. "Abominations, demons, blood everywhere… We all took some bad hits. I'm surprised Wynne is even alive." Hmm? "She hit the ground hard after protecting me from a Pride Demon." Clearly, Wynne had a hard head. I assumed she was fine now, due to being a healer.

"That lines up with what I learned." Leliana popped over to my side, and thankfully removed the children attached to my legs. "Come on," she cooed when they protested. "The nice warrior will have to be heading up soon." So, was the staircase near or something? "There's a barrier." She looked up at me, jaw clenched. "I can understand, but…" This whole thing was a 'sacrifice the few to save the many'. Father thought like that…

"Have Layla and Wynne finished up their reunion?" I asked. Shifting, I swung the child still hanging off my arm, over to Petra, who caught her with a laugh. Then, I lifted the last child off my shoulders and flipped him to the ground, smiling at  _their_  laugh. "There we go. Be good for everyone. I'll play with you again when we're done here." Oh, there was a promise. Here was hoping I could fulfill it. Now that I thought about it, didn't I promise Layla I would do cartwheels or something in full armor?

"Oh, you'll regret that promise." Both Leliana and I turned to see Wynne had joined us. Layla was still sniffling, rubbing roughly at her face again. Did I have a handkerchief somewhere in my pack? I should look, huh? "They're  _very_  rambunctious," Wynne continued, eyes dancing. I just shrugged, hunting through my pack. I doubted they had enough energy to wear me out. "Layla told me about Greagoir's words." Oh, good, she had been able to make that out through the crying and shock. I was impressed. "I will accompany you up." Wait, what? Oh, please tell me I wasn't going to have to fight off two well-intentioned healers. …That was a selfish thought. Two healers meant higher chance of people surviving. Nuada, get it together. "Are you ready to depart?"

"We are when you are." Producing a handkerchief at last, I passed it over to Laya. She quite quickly hid her face in it. "By your leave, ma'am."

* * *

The second floor had even more dead than the first. My stomach rebelled when we saw eviscerated bodies just  _steps_  away from the barrier Wynne took down, but I bit the inside of my mouth hard to keep from throwing up. This was just all sorts of  _wrong_.

"…This was my room," Layla murmured as we passed a room with four bodies thrown inside. I assumed four, at least. The bodies were dismembered, but there were only four heads. "Well, it was supposed to be my room, but I was recruited by Commander Duncan the day I was to move in." …If Layla hadn't gone with Duncan that day, would she have died here too? I didn't much care for  _that_  thought. "Irving's office is down the hall."

"Sadly, though, I doubt he'll be there," Wynne sighed. She had taken lead here, due to having experience with making barriers. The fact that we hadn't encountered a single abomination or demon, despite all the evidence that they  _had_  been here, was incredibly unnerving. "We might try the chapel here, though. It's the largest room on this floor." So, it would've had plenty of room to maneuver.

"There's a shimmering light up ahead." Leliana's observation made us all pause, and she took the opportunity to point it out to us. "See? Right there," she murmured. Her eyes lit up. "It's like that barrier!" Did we seriously find more survivors?

The answer was 'yes'. It was a group of mages all around Layla's age and younger, huddled in what I assumed was the chapel Wynne just mentioned. It certainly bore enough resemblance to the chapel in Highever, at least. It was dustier than Mother Mallol would've ever… leave the thought alone, Nuada.

"Demons…" I heard someone murmur. The mages inside were all shaking. I couldn't blame them. Who would've expected rescue here? "Desire demons again?" The 'again' just reinforced that there  _should_  be demons around. Where were they?

"No, they don't smell like demons." Layla gasped at that voice, and an elven mage limped in front of the group. Though her coloring was different, her face bore a strong resemblance to Aiden. "Even a demon's hallucinations carry their stench," she continued, smiling wanly. She looked… really strained. Was she injured? "Layla to the rescue! You're even wearing armor!"

"Neria!" Layla lunged forward, stopping  _just_  short of the barrier. "You're alive!" she laughed, smiling a bit too wide and eyes tearing up again. They didn't fall this time. "There are others below!"

"Thought so. Saw the barrier, at least." Wynne shifted uncomfortably. That had to have been a hard decision to make. "Well, if you're here, you guys can fight off anything that comes, yeah?" I think you had a  _little_  too much faith in us. I had never fought a demon or abomination in my life, and I doubted Leliana had done the same. …Oh, Maker, I didn't like that reminder. Would our fighting styles  _work_  on them? "I'm going to take down the barrier. I've wounded, and not enough know healing magic." I had a sneaky suspicion that every mage here was going to learn after this.

Neria gestured, whispering something under her breath much like Wynne had earlier, and the barrier flickered away. Neria collapsed mere  _seconds_  later, but Leliana moved fast enough to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Exhaustion," Wynne immediately diagnosed as she knelt beside them. Layla and the others hovered over the three. "I thought she was showing strain. She never had a large amount of mana." Yet, she held the barrier and kept them safe. Was she Aiden's cousin? I could believe it. "Oh, away, children. You need to let her breath!"

"Nuada and I will check the other rooms!" Layla declared, eyes even brighter than her smile. Well, someone was feeling better. "We will be back in a bit!" She bolted, snagging me by the arm along the way and actually knocking me off balance with how hard she tugged.

However, her enthusiasm died when we made it to whatever large room she dragged us too. I sighed as I looked over the sea of blood trickling slowly into the cracks. The bodies weren't even recognizable. I supposed they would be identified simply by being 'missing'.

"…You are too calm." That… had to be the first time anyone accused me of that. "Say something!" Of course, I had no idea how to react to Layla suddenly shouting at me. What did I do this time? "React! Do something other than looking at everything calmly or with a smile!" She was facing me now, and I chose to focus on how stained the bottom of her robes were. "There are children dead!" I was not blind, Layla. I could still see the numerous dead. "They were ambushed, ripped apart!" Oh, was  _that_  why the two of us were standing in a veritable lake of blood? I hadn't noticed! "Do you not care?!" Oh, for crying out loud…

"Someone needs to keep a level head," I replied, moving my hands behind me so she didn't see my fists clench. "That will not be you." Why would it? This was her home, and she hadn't gone through years upon years of reinforced training. "Leliana-"

"What is level about this?!" That wasn't my point. "You did this with Ostagar too!" You were very much not in my head, Layla. Make assumptions as you like, but do not throw false accusations at me. "Then there's Highever!" Hey! That was off limits! "Do you not care about them?!" Excuse me? "Going about with a smile even just days about everything fell like you do, you really must not!" ENOUGH!

"What do you know about me?!" I finally yelled, glaring right back at her. I clenched my fists hard, some part of me praying that my temper wouldn't turn violent here, that it would just stay with words. I did not want to react as I did with that soldier in Lothering's tavern. "What do you know about being alone among a crowd, only having one person to depend on?! What do you know about having to swallow back tears and pain because if you so much as  _breathed_  wrong, you could mess up complicated diplomatic endeavors?!" I needed to calm down. She didn't need to hear this. It was wrong to inflict my whining on her. But I couldn't stop screaming. "What do you know about people expecting you to be invicible just because of your family name? What do you know about having to hide everything for the sake of diplomacy?" Then, of course, when I couldn't hold back anymore, I snapped and just caused more problems. This would be the same. I needed to  _shut up_. "Yes, I remember everything! I remember that my home fell, that my sister-by-marriage is dead, that my parents are dead, that my nephew is likely the same, that the one knight I could call friend probably died trying to save a corpse! I remember the person behind that massacre is someone I had always called 'uncle'!" I was yelling at the bloody ground now. This was pathetic. Maybe I  _should_  have died back in Antiva, if I was going to be this annoying. "I know my brother is most likely dead in the Wilds, food for the scavengers! I know my king, who I adored as a brother, died while I was away! I know that another 'uncle' of mine died on the field, alongside the rest of his order. I know that the person who taught me my stances, who taught me strategy, who I  _also_  called 'uncle', is the one who left them on the field and who in bloody flames knows whether it was the 'right' decision or not!?" It was a 'betrayal', but was it a wrongful one? I didn't know. I honestly didn't. It hurt too much to think. "But I can't be trapped by those memories! I can't think on them! There's too much to do! We have duties!" I jerked my head up, and to my surprise, she looked… really calm considering I was rambling and yelling. Ha… didn't this all  _start_  because she complained I was too calm? "There's nothing to learn from the memories that I haven't already learned many times over, so they're useless memories at best, and chains at worst!" There was no time to be even yelling like this, damn it!

"Aren't you more chained when you try to deny and forget what happened?" Oh,  _now_  she replied, with such a lovely philosophical statement that I had no time to think on! We had a job to do and she was making my head a damn mess! "Don't you just hurt yourself more when you do that?" Andraste's flaming-

"Bloody flames, why does that matter?!" I was so losing it. This wasn't the time. It never was, of course, but there were innocent people dying. "Who  _cares_  how much I hurt?!" The words echoed back and it took everything I had to not wince. I needed to take a step back. I was yelling at a girl who was understandably emotionally compromised. I was wrong. I was being pathetic. I needed to shut up. I really needed to shut up. So, I took a breath, closed my eyes, and threw all the frustration, all the anger, into some dark corner in my mind where it could rot for all I cared. "No, forget it. I'm sorry for wasting your-"

"I care." Two words, said so gently, and I honestly could say nothing had quite left me so speechless before. It was all the worse when I opened my eyes and I saw her step forward, stopping only when she was just close enough to touch. "Is that so bad?" she asked, just as softly, with far too gentle eyes. Maker's breath, how had Thedas not killed her yet? "Is it so bad, to care for a friend?" …When in our string of rather awkward interactions had I done something to make her even  _want_  to call me 'friend'? Also, how was I supposed to answer that?

Thankfully, I didn't have to. Wynne and Leliana arrived, and the two of us darted apart like we were both on fire. "Everyone is well," Wynne informed us, pointedly not looking at the floor. Layla breathed a sigh of relief, and I tentatively smiled. "They're heading down now." That was good. Hopefully, that wouldn't mean they had a front row seat to templars slaughtering them. "Leliana and I thought we heard yelling, though." Uh… right, I had to have been loud. "Not that we could make out the words." Oh, thank the Maker, because that was  _mortifying_. "Is everything all right?" Um…

"Nuada just voiced some frustrations," Layla immediately replied. She, like Wynne, refused to look at the ground. "It is nothing more, Wynne." Long years in various courts helped me smile sheepishly and nod along to her story. I mean; it wasn't a  _lie_. Though, Layla covering for me wasn't something I expected.

"I can certainly understand that!" Leliana laughed. Her cheer died quickly, however, and she looked quite tired. "The staircase is close." So, we had another floor of corpses to meander through. "Shall we?" Did we have a choice? We  _were_  trapped.

I had a headache from all of this. Hopefully, it would go away soon.

* * *

The third floor had, surprise, more corpses, and not a demon or abomination in sight. The staircase to the fourth floor, though, had this strange moss growing on the walls in a strangely pretty fashion. Well, it would've been pretty if the 'moss' hadn't apparently been made of flesh. Leliana wasn't the only one who was going to see  _that_  in her nightmares.

"I'm become inured to the smell of rot," I mumbled to myself as I checked over another body. I did my best to not react when I realized they were young, thirteen at most, and that unlike the bodies of the mages below, this one bore signs of extensive and painful torture. Why else would all of their fingers be snapped meticulously as each joint? "I can't say I was expecting things like this when I agreed to join the Wardens." My rant to Layla definitely made me far more whiney. Thankfully, I was alone in the room. It was, after all, just a small bedroom. Layla, Wynne, and Leliana had gone to check others.

Sighing, I placed the child's body next to the older templars also in the room. I wondered if they'd taken shelter with veterans. I wondered if they'd been tortured first to break the older ones. Ah, this was just a mess. At least with Howe, I knew his motivation was greed and power. With Loghain, I knew he was doing what he  _thought_  was best for Fereldan. I couldn't find a motivation behind this, though. Then again, I was no expert on demons. Maybe I should've asked Alistair for some templar tricks. I hoped Elspeth was okay in the woods with the others. Aiden and Cleon must be having an easier time; I wished it for them, at least. I wondered if Sten and Morrigan were adapting to everyone.

I needed to think better. These thoughts had no purpose here.

Rubbing my temples, ignoring the blood I swore was just permanently ingrained into my skin, I leaned against the writing desk between the beds. Some papers shifted, and a couple hit my hand. Absently, I picked it up, and read it. And then read it again, growing cold with each word.

_'It is so hard to take. The ration is too small. I need more. I NEED more. I'm so thirsty, but water doesn't work. It's not blue enough. My body doesn't sing. I'm so afraid. My hands are numb with cold, even as I write this. Everything hurts. Everything is too close, too cramped. Even the Maker-damned sky is pressing down on my head. That young boy Cullen keeps calling for a 'Jacob'. No one answers him. Is it me? Is that my name? I can't remember. I'm going like them, aren't I? The senior templars with the cloudy eyes who can't remember two plus two. What IS two plus two? Ah, maybe I should swipe a bottle from the stores. That'll fix me up.'_

…I had always heard lyrium was addictive, and that templars drank it to combat mages. But I never… thought of how it affected  _them_. I never thought about just how much of a  _leash_  it was. Were they as caged and changed as mages? I figured they weren't, since they'd made the choice to join, but that recruit there was just thirteen. How could you expect someone like them to make a proper decision with something like this? How many were lured in by the grandeur of 'protecting the people', and became trapped?

I… never thought about that. I never even considered… ah, this was made all the worse by my rant just a few days ago about how the mage-templar issue buried other important issues.  _This_  was something buried in it. How many people even  _thought_  about how the Chantry tricked young children into trapping themselves through addiction?

"Nuada?" I jerked my head up to see Wynne in the doorway. "It  _is_  Nuada, yes?" she asked with a little laugh. I smiled wryly as I realized she must've been calling my name for a bit. "Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no, I adore standing in a room with the corpses of tortured people," I immediately deadpanned. I set the note back down on the writing desk and straightened. "To be serious, I was looking to see if they'd managed to write anything down before dying." I loved being able to lie through my teeth sometimes.

"I fear we won't find much." She sighed heavily, shaking her head, and I wondered if she was thinking that old phrase. 'In peace, children bury parents. In war, parents bury children.' "We will have to pass through the exercise area to make it to the staircase. That'll be the topmost floor." So, we'd know soon if there was a way to stop the Right of Annulment or not. "Leliana and Layla went ahead to check for survivors. I volunteered to get you." Oh? "I wanted to apologize." …Huh? "You had asked me, in Ostagar, to check on King Cailan." She gave me a sad smile, and I waved it off. Ostagar was… a tragedy outside anyone's hands. "How are the two elves, though? Cleon and Aiden?" Hmm? "I saw them escape that day. Did they make it?" Ah…

"Hopefully, they're not experiencing nearly as much trouble as we are." If they were, then I was just going to assume getting help from Ozammar and Redcliffe would be even more troublesome. "And hopefully, no one in their group has tried to kill each other yet." Wynne still just smiled, even as I walked past her into the hallway. "Was there something else?"

"Hmm? Oh, no." Still, her hand came up to pat me on the head. "I was just thinking on how hard you were working." I think she hit her head harder than Petra thought. I hadn't been doing much of anything aside from checking corpses and whining. "Shall we join the others?" Yes, that sounded good, weird grandmotherly mage person.

However, both of us knew something was very,  _very_  wrong when Wynne opened the door to the exercise area. For one thing, Leliana and Layla were passed out on the ground. I assumed they were passed out. They still looked to be breathing. For another thing, though, there were a lot of corpses here, unusual in that they didn't actually bear wounds.

The third thing was that there was  _something else_  in the center of the room. "Ah… more guests…?" I blinked slowly,  _not_  quite processing what I was seeing. It was  _vaguely_  humanoid, but there was something off and twisted about the form. "Ah… too much effort to entertain," it whispered. Was this an abomination? Was this what they looked like? It wasn't like the pictures in the books. "Why don't you rest a while?" I… was a bit sleepy… suddenly…

"Resist…" That sounded like… Wynne? Maybe? "This is… Sloth…" What did she mean by that? …Oh, wait, wasn't… Sloth a demon or… something? "Resist or we… shall be lost…" That wasn't… I had to…

"It's okay…" The voice was echoing in my head. It was like the Archdemon's song, ringing deep into my bones. I needed to… "The world will go on without you." I had a duty… "But you really want to sleep, yes?" I… "Don't you hate the world that let your family die?" Shut up. Just… shut up. "The world that didn't care how much you and your twin silently screamed? That your father made himself ill to keep up with the work? That never offered help to your mother? That took away the 'uncle' that understood too quickly and too soon?" Quiet… "The world that let your brother die in the woods, and your other brother broken on the battlefield?" Enough… "It's all in your head. Don't you want to rest?" No… "Rest, and have a pretty dream." Shut up. Shut up. I'm a Cousland. I didn't care what happened to me. "Rest…" I didn't. Shut up. I chose the path of a warrior, and I… "Rest…" Quiet! I needed to wake-

"Wake up, Nuada!" What the…? "Goodness, child, what am I going to do with you?" I… knew that voice. I knew that voice so well. But it was impossible that I was… "Nuada!" A gentle kiss fell on my forehead. "Wake up, my little boy." This was…

With an effort, I opened my eyes and could only stare. I was in my bed in Highever. I was in my  _room_  in Highever. I knew by the various pictures and books along the walls. But what really surprised me was… was Mother leaning over me with a laughing smile.

"Goodness, are you still not feeling well?" 'Mother' asked, brushing the hair out of my face. The hand was just as warm and calloused as I remembered, and I was crying before I knew what was going on. "Oh! Nuada!" She sat next to me and gently wiped the tears that slipped down my face with her sleeve. "It's okay. You'll get better, and be trouncing Fergus and Ser Gilmore in the training grounds before long!" That wasn't… "So, just focus on getting better, my dear little boy." I…

What was going on? Was everything a nightmare? Was this the nightmare? I didn't know. I didn't know!

…Did I  _want_  to know…?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Yay! Nuada finally cracked! And admits that despite his thoughts, he’s short-sighted in ways himself. Figured the Tower was a good place for that. The note from the templar is based off a codex entry from Inquisition. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Brecilian Ruins with Cleon


	45. Chapter 40) Ruins

**Chapter 40) Ruins**

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"I don't know what I'm more aggravated about. That you four went so far without supervision, or that you made it so far without getting caught!" Lyna, Tamlen, Merrill, and me knew better than to say anything. It was better to let Zathrian ramble while he lectured. It was easier to listen to than Keeper Marethari's. "You know the dangers in going into the forest, and the hunters should've been watching better." Besides, we knew we were in trouble because he loved us and we scared him. "Did anything hurt you?" See? He ruffled our hair, studying us closely. "Anything scare you?"_

_"No, there was just a ruin," I answered. Out of the four of us, I found it the easiest to talk to him, so I tended to be the speaker for our group. "We thought we heard wolves, though, and wondered if we'd see any pups."_

_"…There are no pups there." Zathrian's face was dark, but I knew it wasn't directed at us, so while the other three squeaked and hid behind me, I just waited for him to continue. "Just a ruin?"_

_"Yeah?" I thought back a bit. "Oh! I thought I saw a lady! But the others didn't see her." I'd been trying to point her out, hiding in the foliage, when Zathrian found us. "She looked kind."_

_"…" Zathrian hugged me tight, and I tried to figure out why. "…She will not take you…" I thought I heard him mutter. But it was so quiet. "I will not let that spirit have you." Zathrian? "You four are confined within the boundaries of the two camps for however long Marethari and I decide." Aw… "Let's go inform Paivel that his four rambunctious children are safe and sound, yes?"_

_"Okay." What did he mean by those mutters, though? Was it one of those ancient people things?_

_It was probably better just to hold his hand as he led us back. And assume I just heard wrong._

* * *

I did not like being here. I _very_ much didn't like being here. What if the same thing that happened to Tamlen happened to them? Even though my instincts weren't screaming this time, it could still happened. After all, this place _had_ been guarded by a fog. Something didn't want to be found. And yet… I'd been here before. Not inside, just to the outside. But I'd _been_ here. And I distinctly remembered the four of us had just wandering up, no fights or convoluted fog or sylvans in sight. Why? Was it a recent thing? It couldn't be, though, if there were old tales. This was all so, so confusing. 

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I leaned against a broken wall. In our search for ways forward, we had found a secret room filled with dust and the smell of old paper. The latter was because there were books. Lots and lots of books. Written in a mix of Dalish and old Tevene or something. Yeah, I was just confused. We _also_ completely lost Elspeth and Morrigan to them. 

"For someone who talks about duty a lot, she gets distracted by books easily," I muttered, glowering at Elspeth's back. She didn't notice at all, and I relaxed, shaking my head. "I hope it's not stealing their souls or something." 

"Please don't give life ideas," Alistair sighed. He was next to me, studying the mosaics dotting the wall. "And I don't know. Maybe this is what's keeping her from snapping. Like how Morrigan isn't nearly so snappy and witchy when she's reading." This was true. She and Elspeth actually seemed rather animated in talking. "You going to help?" Huh? "Aren't you listening to them? They're trying to guess elven words based on context." No small part of me was glad about that. It just seemed wrong that shemlen would have enough knowledge of the elven language to read things easily. 

"How are they understanding the Tevene or whatever it is?" 

"Hmm…" Alistair tilted his head, playfully cupping a hand around his ear. "Something, something, similarity to modern Tevene, something, something, Mother taught me some, something, something." 

"I get it." Alistair just grinned and I sighed again. "This information better make it to my people." 

"I already made sure they planned on it." Oh, there was Aiden. "I figured you'd want that," he added. I smiled and nodded, relieved. And glad they respected that part of my culture. "Regardless, found two rooms not far. Let's leave them to study and check them out." Yeah, maybe Morrigan or Elspeth could find an answer to why this place was so damn weird. 

"Cleon." Of course, as soon as I followed Aiden into the hallway, Sten accosted me. "Are the Dalish truly so strong to warrant all this trouble?" he asked me bluntly. I could only stare at him. Was that _really_ something to be asking me? Especially right now? "This is complicated madness. If we are to find 'allies', then we should look elsewhere." Okay, you know what? 

"Don't underestimate my people." I glared up at him, and he met the look with an impassiveness that just made my blood boil. "Ours is the strength of the trees and land. Only a fool threatens that." Did his eyes narrow? I couldn't tell. "Look for a path in the room with Alistair. We're continuing on this path, and you can follow along or stand aside." 

I really thought he'd actually leave. But instead he nodded, and went into the room to right. Slowly, I let myself relax, shaking my head. Sometimes it felt like he challenged us to make us not indecisive. I supposed it was an awkward sort of kindness? 

Since he headed to the right, I went to the left, and found… something I wasn't expecting. Stone casings lined along the walls, each marked with letters too faded to read. I knew this place. It was a 'crypt'. Why was it here? 

Aiden was wandering the wall, barely even glancing at me as he peered at one in particular. "Why are they above the ground?" he asked softly. His hands gently brushed the dust and rocks off the top, fingers tracing what remained of the writing. "I know you told me once that the Dalish bury their dead, but…" 

"These could've been elves that chose Uthenera," I answered, just as softly. I saw a small spring with an old, ceramic jug half-buried in the center and carefully picked it up. What was this…? Oh, wait, Keeper Marethari once told Merrill about an old ritual. Was there an altar nearby? 

"Uthenera?" There was. So, I carefully set the jug on it and quietly prayed. "What's that?" 

"It's the long sleep." Prayer finished, I picked up the jug again and took a small sip of it. It tasted cold and even sweet. "Back when the elves were immortal, some would grow weary and choose to sleep to let the newer generations lead." I carried the jug back to the spring and gently poured the water in. "They'd retire into chambers that were both bed and tomb. It would make sense for them to be above ground." I might've continued, but I yelped as the jug I held suddenly shattered, shards slipping underneath my gloves and gauntlets to nick the skin and make me bleed. "Ow… the tales never mentioned that would happen!" 

"What did you do?" Aiden came to my side and helped me remove the gloves to make sure none of the shards were embedded. Some of my blood dripped from my fingers and into the spring. Almost immediately after we heard the groan of stone somewhere, felt the shaking of the floor, and, in the distance, heard what might have been a roar. "…What did you do?!" 

"It's _supposed_ to be a ritual expressing respect for those who made the sacrifice take the Uthenera." I slipped the gloves back on and sighed. "Don't ask me about the rest of it." 

"If we have to fight some old elven creation, Cleon, I honestly might hurt you." I was just glad you were showing frustration, Aiden. Now, if we could get Elspeth and Nuada to do that, then all of us could be emotional messes together! Well, except Sten. But I somehow doubted anything was cracking his composure. "I mean it." 

"Relax." I waved a hand to wipe away the worry. "If there was a Varterral, we would've known by now, and that's probably the only one that would've lasted so long." 

"…And they say city elves are insane." Aiden sighed. "I have a headache." 

"Ir abelas." A thought occurred to me. "Oh, that's all assuming these are elves." He gave me a curious look. "What I said about Uthenera. This place _is_ human built. If they were humans from before your Chantry established…" 

"Then they could also be the graves of humans." Who knew? Certainly not us. "This is obviously not the way forward, regardless." This was true. "We should help Alistair and Sten." 

"Lead on." He sighed again, clearly not liking the phrase, but he didn't say a word as he led the way out. I remained quiet, following closely. 

"Cleon." Hearing my name, I paused and turned back to see Elspeth running for me. What happened? "Oh, good, I found you," she panted, rubbing the sweat off her face. She was clutching something in her hand. What was going on? 

"Should I get Aiden?" I asked her. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him disappear into the room. "Or the others." 

"No, it isn't anything of that sort of importance." And what was _that_ supposed to mean? "Another room suddenly opened up." Ahaha… was that what the moving stone had been? Please tell me a stack of books didn't fall of them. "Morrigan and I went in to check it out. It was mostly empty." Wait, really? "But, I found this." She held out her hand, shifting to cup the object. 

I bent down a little to study it. A vial. A vial with thick, crimson liquid inside. Was this _blood_? No, it couldn't be, though? Even in a vial, it should've long dried out by now, yes? Though, I did sense a bit of magic in it. "What is it?" 

"Take it." Uh… "Please, trust me." Oh, well, when you put it like that, I had no choice. 

Sighing, I took the vial from her, cupping it just as she had. When I blinked, though, I was suddenly in a very different place. The forest, but younger than I had ever seen. Corpses and weapons scattered about, the smell of smoke and rot choking my throat, the taste of blood permanently staining my mouth. Magic singing in my blood, and bringing my sword down again and again, protecting my lord with my life as I swore. This is the fate of those who chose Dirth'ena Enasalin. I would- 

Hands on my shoulder, and I jerked my head up. Another blink, and I was back in the ruins, Elspeth looking right at me. The vial was clutched in my shaking hands. "I'm sorry," she murmured. She let go of my shoulders and took a step back, shoulders slumping to make herself less a target. "I should have guessed it would affect you more." What would? What _was_ that? "There is a spirit in it." A _what_? "Perhaps 'spirit' is a poor word. Ghost might be better. Someone who once lived sealed themselves in it." I glanced down at my hands. "I only… caught glimpses of their memories. Since you are not a mage, I thought you would also. I'm sorry." Well, I had a latent magic that gave me sharper instincts. But she must've forgotten. "Truly, I am." 

"It's fine," I replied slowly. The words didn't seem to cheer her up. "Well, what else did you glean from it?" No offense, but I wasn't risking something like _that_ again. But Dirth'ena Enasalin… that translated to 'knowledge that leads to victory' or something. I'd never heard of it. 

"From what I gathered, they were an 'Arcane Warrior'." A… what? That would imply… okay, so the magic I'd felt in the memory had been…? But, mages didn't really _fight_ like that, right? "It is… difficult for me to communicate with them. They had to listen to my own memories to pick up the words." …Elspeth, you were absolutely insane for letting a spirit muddle through your head. "I do not know much else, but it seemed to be a path some elven mages took in the past." Okay. 

"So, why give it to me? I'm not a mage." I glanced down at my hands again, carefully opening them to reveal the vial again. How long had they been stuck? "Morrigan is. She would've been right there." 

"But I do not think she would share that piece of knowledge." I felt the need to defend her, but Elspeth shook her head. "I feel like she would keep it close, as a bargaining chip for future favors. It is not that I feel she is greedy or petty, but that she cannot comprehend someone helping her without wanting compensation." Uh… "Besides, it's elven. It should be an elf who chooses who learns it." I could only stare, startled to hear such words from a shemlen. " _If_ a human learns, it should at least be someone elfblooded, and someone who will teach the art to all those willing to learn." Her hands shook a little as she clasped them. "Besides, I believe the spirit would prefer to teach someone of elven heritage anyway." …Well, I supposed I could give it to Zathrian then, when we got back. He'd appreciate the new knowledge. 

So, I carefully put the vial in my pack, wrapping it gently in my spare clothes, mentally apologizing. The spirit would have to wait just a little longer before I could get them to their next and last student. "Ma serranas." I hoped she got what all I was thanking her for. Finding it. Giving it to me. _Wanting_ it to stay with elves and those of their blood. 

Her slight, pleased smile hinted she did. I hoped I was right. 

* * *

A little down the path, we found a large, open room filled with records. Most of them burned or water damaged. A few looked shredded. Damn werewolves. What information and stories could've been there? 

I shifted through the remnants as the others poked around the room, curious about what I could read. Sadly, though, there wasn't much. There _was_ a couple of snippets talking about the ruin, but all it did was confirm the place was built by humans, despite the elven carvings and statues, and a 'terrible presence' destroyed it. What could that have been, though? Tevinter? Something else? Fen'harel's teeth, with so little information, you could make a case of the fall of the elves being _due_ to elves and not have anything to disprove you! 

At least there wasn't a damn mirror anywhere. If there was, I was grabbing everyone and _running_. I would not let them suffer the same fate Tamlen did. I would _not_. 

"Hey, Cleon?" Alistair, why were you calling me? "Cleon?" I heard you the first time. "Why is there a dragon here?" …A what? 

"Alistair, did you get into some alcohol or something?" I asked, turning away from the papers. And found myself looking right at a dragon. A rather angry dragon. "…Fen'harel's teeth." WHAT WAS A DRAGON DOING IN A RUIN IN THE MIDDLE OF A FOREST?! IT WAS HUGE AND HAD WINGS! 

Everything was chaotic. No one had any idea of what was going on. It was just a desperate running around, trying not to get killed. Dodging fire and wings and claw, hoping the walls wouldn't cave in as rubble fell. 

Seeing Morrigan pinned by a stray piece of stone and the dragon aiming for her… 

My feet moved on my own, and I slid in front of her just before the claws connected. They snagged on my armor and I had a severe feeling of disorientation as it lifted and threw me up. Gritting my teeth, I swung my legs around to flip and managed a pretty decent landing on a rock jutting out from the side. A glance to the side suggested it had actually been part of some sort of balcony, when this ruin was whole. 

I carefully touched my armor and grimaced when it basically fell apart immediately, clunking dully to the ground below. Though I suffered no injuries, I almost felt like I'd lost a friend? Ridiculous, of course. But that armor had kept me alive from Highever to here, all the way through the horror of Ostagar. I was legitimately upset that the dragon had destroyed it. 

Shaking my head, I watched the dragon fly in the air, breathing fire at the ground. Elgar'nan, how were we supposed to kill it?! Were all of them this strong? Then what about the Archdemon? How were we supposed to kill _it_? 

Creators, you really did like to punish the insane. 

"Morrigan, will you stop arguing with me and just ice his wing already?" Was that Alistair? "I know you hate me, but this is kind of life and death here!" Yep, that was Alistair. I couldn't see him from here. Was he on the other side of the dragon? "Come on! Cleon would be impressed!" …Alistair, were you using me as _bait_ for her?! 

"Lady Elspeth!" And there was Aiden, just a bit below me. Blood coated the right side of his face, but his left eye was sparking with confidence. Somehow. "Coordinate with Morrigan to snipe out the _opposite_ eye of the wing she will target." …Aiden, eye shots were difficult. Now, granted, large dragon meant large eye and, therefore, large target, but still. "Morrigan, shut up and listen to Alistair! We don't have time for you two arguing like brats!" …I think he snapped. Should I be amused or scared? "Cleon? Where are you?" 

"Here." I made sure to jump down by his left side. "Hope you have a good idea," I told him. "Because those scales are harder than Nuada's head." That got him to smile. "What do you need?" 

"When it hits the ground, Sten and I will take the flanks. With luck, we'll get the underbelly." Right, it wasn't scaled there. "Alistair will be making sure it doesn't bite us." With what? His shield? "While we're doing that, I want you to get on the dragon and stab it behind the head." Okay… wait, what. "Please just do it." 

"Can I ask where this idea is coming from?" Because who thought of things like this? 

"Garahel." That was… "The elf who killed the Archdemon of the Fourth Blight." Well, if it worked on an Archdemon… all of us were quite insane. 

"Mythal, protect us." 

"Pray while you get into a place to jump." Oh, he definitely snapped. I was _so_ not arguing. "Please." There was the Aiden I was used to. Mostly. Still not arguing. 

I glanced at the others, smiling slightly when I saw Alistair lift Elspeth to a ledge not dissimilar to the one I was returning to, and saw her actually smile before aiming, drawing the bowstring back for a long draw. He smiled back before turning, adjusting the straps on his shield. He caught me staring and winked at me, making me wonder if I should roll my eyes or smile. I ended up doing both. Near Alistair, Sten and Aiden were both holding their greatswords, Aiden's low, by his leg, and Sten's up, resting against his shoulder. Morrigan was not far from Elspeth, a limp and blood the only hints of the earlier pinning. She looked rather murderous, almost snarling at the dragon hovering overhead. It growled back, watching and waiting. Was this actually going to work? 

Didn't matter. There was no more time to think. Because Elspeth loosed the arrow and everything just focused on executing the plan Aiden set up. 

From my perch, I watched the arrow fly and I knew it hit when the dragon loosed a deafening roar that echoed on and on and on, rattling my ears and disrupting my balance even. But disorientation didn't affect Morrigan's magic, and one of the wings froze, sending it crashing to the ground. It immediately tried to snap, but somehow Alistair's shield did actually hold up against the fangs. Sten and Aiden lunged forward, greatswords biting into the side. I absently noted that while Sten's cut was smoother and more even, Aiden's was deeper. It screeched, thrashing about as blood pooled under its claws. I waited for it to come closer to my perch before dropping down. And promptly slipping and crashing onto my shoulder. I grit my teeth against the pain, knowing that it was going to bruise, but I could still hold onto my daggers. I could keep going. 

It kept shifting and jumping under my hands and feet as I crawled up. Arrows and magic flew over my head. I kept hearing the strange sound of teeth and claws grating on metal. The sound of flesh ripping was strangely rhythmic. I made myself ignore them, though. I just needed to find some soft spot where my daggers could actually get in. 

I finally found it. Straight on the head. Of course. I was so about to be thrown again. 

Sighing, I sat up on my knees, brought the daggers up above my head, and slammed them down as hard as I could. Blood erupted from the wound even before I ripped the daggers back out. The resulting toss of the dragon's head… well, it threw me, just as I expected. Who knew flying was so terrifying? Especially when there was no convenient perch nearby. 

Thankfully, Sten was not only _able_ to catch me, but _willing_. "You should have secured yourself," he told me as he set me down. I refused to answer that. "But the dragon is dead." I didn't know of anything that could survive two daggers to the head. 

"Thank you for being a very convenient net," I deadpanned at last. He… actually smiled a little? Did that amuse him? Um… "If you'll excuse me, I think a little bit of walking will be good for reminding myself that the ground is nice." I bowed a little and walked away, glancing tentatively at the dragon. It… was dead, right? Right? 

"Here." Something metallic was thrust at me. I hesitantly took it and peered around it to see Morrigan had been the one to hand it over. She refused to look up at me. "It is an armor I found shortly before the dragon appeared," she mumbled. It was really unnerving for her to be talking to the ground. "Do what you will with it." Aaand she stormed off. Okay. What did I do? "Where did you mangy things come from?!" And we had werewolves. Of course we did. 

Handing the armor off to _whoever_ happened to be closest, might have been Alistair, I ran towards where I heard her, and saw she'd opened a door without telling anyone. And there werewolves were there. Snarling. One lunged forward at her, but I kicked it back, standing in front of her. "Get the others," I whispered. I could _feel_ the scowl burning a hole in my back. "Please." She huffed and left. Okay, seriously, what did I _do_? And if these werewolves didn't stop snarling, I was seriously- 

"Stop." Okay, I knew Aiden had said the werewolves had the ability to talk, but it was definitely another thing to hear it directly. "At ease, brothers and sisters." I was assuming the one _not_ snarling was the one talking? "I ask this of you, outsiders. Are you willing to parley?" What. 

"What is that coming up now?" I demanded. I gripped my daggers tightly, hearing the others settle behind me. If these werewolves so much as twitched wrong… "If you wanted to talk, then why didn't you before attacking the Clan?" 

"That was different." I supposed it was good it didn't deny the attack. "The Lady believes you do not know the full story." …Probably, yes. I'd been told this before. I didn't like having it confirmed, though. "She wishes to speak with you. Peacefully." Did this mean they weren't going to hold the werewolves we killed earlier against us? 

"And what guarantee is there that this isn't another ambush?" 

"What would be the point?" It somehow managed a shrug. "Our Lady would be displeased, and more of our brothers and sisters would be dead. We protect our people." …I didn't like they were like Dalish. I really didn't. "She had wished to meet you in the forest, but we would not let her." Was that where that ambush at the beginning came from? "We intend on protecting her to our last breaths." Great. Wolves' loyalty. Constant no matter what, it seemed. 

"Might I ask how she changed your minds?" Aiden came up beside me. Seeing his greatsword on his back, I made myself loosen my grip on my daggers. Just slightly. "It's quite a difference," he continued lightly. I glanced back at the others, and noted with a grimace I was the only one armed. But I couldn't drop my guard. Not after what they did. I just couldn't yet. 

"Swiftrunner thought it would not matter," the werewolf answered easily. "The Lady disagrees, and since you made your way around the barricade, we must acquiesce to her wishes." So nice to hear that. "Will you parley or not?" 

"Considering I tried earlier, we might as well." Aiden sounded quite done with all of this. I was glad he was showing some frustration. "Please, lead us to her." 

"Very well." It crouched though, snarling. I tightened my grip on my daggers again. "If you break your promise and harm her, we shall all come back from the Fade again and again to make you pay." That… was some loyalty. 

Cautiously, we all followed the werewolves inside. The first thing I noticed was the flower petals dancing in the wind. A giant tree was centered in the back of the room, blooming beautifully in spite of the ruin surrounding it. Smaller trees swayed along the walls, almost like they were waving. Werewolves stood on guard in front of them, baring fang, but none made any movement towards us. 

The ones standing on the raised mosaic growled and a couple of them prepared to lunge. However, branches moving like fingers stroked their heads, soothing them. The branches then shifted, revealing someone who appeared like an elf, but with greenish skin. Branches twined about arms and legs, and… and I knew that face. I knew those eyes. Creators, this was…! 

"I bid you welcome, mortals." This was the Spirit I saw right after Tamlen… right after I… "I am the Lady of the Forest." Creators, what are you _doing_? I'd appreciate some insight right about now! "I am glad to meet you at last." Was this a weird dream or something? If so, I'd gladly appreciate waking up now, thank you very much! 

When did my life get so damn complicated? 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Brecilian Ruins! Pretty place. Mostly a lore building place, but it _is_ very pretty. The elven name for Arcane Warrior is revealed by Solas in Inquisition, if your Inquisitor took up the Knight Enchanter specialization. Knight Enchanter is stated in game to be derived from Arcane Warrior teachings. I have _no idea_ why there is a dragon there. But here we go. 
> 
> Next Chapter – The Fade with Layla 


	46. Chapter 41) Fade

**Chapter 41) Fade**

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"And the greatest of demons are the demons of Pride, or so the templars like to teach." Dutifully, I wrote down Irving's words, even as I wondered what he meant. "See, Layla, templars classify the hierarchy of demons by their abominations. How powerful they are, or how difficult it is to trace them. Abominations of Pride and Desire look very human, with the differences simply being in their manner and eyes."_

_"Does that mean the other demons are stronger?" I asked, curious. It seemed so strange to me that the templars might be wrong._

_"That depends on the circumstances," he answered. He tugged a chair up to sit in front of me. "See, there are many demonologists who believe Sloth demons are, in fact, the most powerful." Oh? "Simply held back by their love of not doing anything."_

_"So, what happens when they decide to do something?"_

_"…You have to focus your mind and break their illusions." Huh? "Sloth wish to induce people to rest and sleep. Staying in a dream and never waking up as they feed on the feeling of sloth and laziness." He ruffled my hair. "All right?"_

_"Okay?" I was confused. "But I hate lazing about."_

_"Sometimes, my dear, Sloth demons use that which terrifies you into freezing to keep you trapped." That was rude. "Other times, they give you dreams, lives, you would sacrifice anything for." Uh… "Ah, you might be a bit too young for this sort of conversation. Let's continue the lesson."_

_"Yes, sir?"_

* * *

"Layla." Mmm…? "Layla, wake up." Who was…? "Layla, you better not be playing sleeping beauty. I am _not_ kissing you." That sounded like… but it couldn't be… 

"Ugh…" I groaned, forcing my eyes open. Everything was blurry, blotches of color that seemed so familiar yet so foreign. "What is…?" I glanced over and one of the blotches was a mousy-looking boy with black hair and brown eyes. This was… "Jowan?" 

"Nice to see you're conscious!" He was smiling. What was going on? "You got really sick, Layla. Do you remember?" I was… sick? "Like _really_ sick. Even the Knight-Commander was worried." Had it all… been a fever dream then? Had meeting Commander Duncan, going to the Brecilian Forest, seeing the Denerim Alienage, watching Highever fall, the Korcari Wilds, the Tower at Ostagar, Lothering… had it all just been a dream? What about the people I saw in those places? What about Cleon, Aiden, and Nuada? What about Elspeth, Alistair, Morrigan, Leliana, and Sten? Had they just been dreams too? "Layla?" What about the phylactery and… 

"Lily." The name slipped out. My hand went to my wrist, where I wore the bracelet she gave me, and it wasn't there. "What about-?" 

"You don't remember getting sick yourself, but you remember _her_ getting sick." Jowan sounded so exasperated as he sat on the edge of my bed, gently poking my cheek. "She's fine. She woke up long before you, and most of our dates have been spent with her fretting and praying over you." O-oh… "But, remember, that's all a _secret_." Yeah, it would have to be. 

"Jowan, who are you talking to?" I knew _that_ voice, though I hadn't heard it in a long time. "Don't tell me Layla is awake?" My suspicion was confirmed as Anders poked his head around Jowan. "Oh, wow, she is!" he yelped, smiling wide. When did he…? "Quite a thing to return to. 'Yes, Irving, I am so sorry for running away again, but what do you _mean_ Layla's been asleep for four days from a fever?'" He ruffled my hair. "Man, you look horrible." I could not help but pout. "Layla, if you looked good after that kind of a fever, I think the templars would be suspecting blood magic." Anders snapped his fingers, though, and pointed at Jowan. "Right, now that I'm no longer fretting. Guess what I saw?" 

"If you're going to mention that book again…" Jowan growled. His face was bright red. "I nearly got into trouble because some of the younger mages grabbed it." What book were they even talking about? "Besides, were some of those… um…" 

"Yes, they're all anatomically possible." Anders's grin was decidedly wicked. "Regardless, no, not what I was going to say. I _was_ going to say I saw approval forms for your Harrowing, Jowan." Oh! "Meaning you'll finally join the ranks. Guess flirting put you behind Layla, huh?" 

"The question becomes whether he'll be a good example or bad example for the little ones!" Neria appeared on the other side of my bed, helping me sit up. My head felt like cotton. Nothing felt real. "Wynne was talking about bringing you in as an assistant to her teaching, when you got better," she told me. I blinked slowly, trying to process everything. "Here, let's see if you can stand." Wait, if I was just sick like they claimed, then I really shouldn't be able to stand, even with Anders and Jowan helping. Anders, as a healer, should be protesting. "There we go! Let's get you food." I also could not have dreamed so much pain. Even in my worst nightmares, I could not have imagined how no one helped the elves in the Alienage, the way Highever fell, the battle of Ostagar. I could not have imagined all those refugees in Lothering; I had never even _heard_ of the town before arriving. The Circle falling was beyond even my worst nightmares. "And maybe some-" 

"This is not real." My voice was soft and everything froze. I took advantage to step back, away from them. "This is a dream," I whispered, pressing the idea firmly in my head. It was a wonderful dream where all the pain never happened. But dreams were dreams, and I could not stay. I simply… could not. "I have to wake up." 

"No, you should stay with us!" 'Neria' said, reaching for me. Her eyes pleaded and I felt myself falter. Would it be so bad to stay? I liked not hurting. "Live with us! Safe and warm! Is this not a good dream?" It was a _wonderful_ dream. But… 

"I love Neria." 'Neria' smiled in relief, and the smile spread to 'Anders' and 'Jowan'. They were sure they had won. "I love Anders. Even now, no small part of me loves Jowan." I hated that part. I _wanted_ to hate him, completely. "But, you are not them." Jowan was on the run. Anders had escaped before everything fell. Neria was unconscious from holding a barrier for far too long. "You are _not_ them!" With my declaration, I focused my mind and shattered the illusion, vision blurring with tears when I saw the shocked, betrayed looks in the shards. Even though they had just existed in my head, it _hurt_. When would everything stop _hurting_? 

I brushed my fingers over my wrist, and found the bracelet there again. On my chest, I had the leather armor Teyrna Cousland had given me. The bottom of my robes was bloodstained. I breathed deep, to try and clear my head, and shuddered when I looked out over the twisted landscape of the Fade. I truly did not like it here. No, I did not like it one bit. 

Glancing around, I tried to see if any of the others were nearby. Sadly, they were not. Of course, that was the case. Maker forbid something actually be _easy_ on me. I really couldn't stop my exasperated groan. What was the lesson about moving through the Fade again? It was something like 'focus on your desire'? But I did not want to focus. If anything, I wanted to cry. Was it childish to wonder what I did to deserve any of this? Well, it was fine if it was. I was seventeen. In some countries, I was not yet an adult, and in others, I was _barely_ a year into it. I resented being forced into this! I never wanted to leave the Tower! I never wanted to fight! Why?! Why, Maker, would you make this my path? You are supposed to be kind and merciful! You just seem to take joy in tearing us into pieces! 

"You…" I froze at the voice. I knew this voice too. It was a voice I never wanted to hear again. Yet, slowly, I turned to face the speaker, confirming with my own eyes it was a pride demon. "You've returned?" More specifically, it was Mouse, my test for my Harrowing. I felt so different from that girl. That girl had been bright, cheerful, filled with elation at having conquered the demon and realizing the trap. That girl had been filled with smiles and only had to worry about templars. "You should not be here!" She did not have memories of blood and corpses. She never had to kill something that bled. She never had to deal with the whispers dragging her down in her dreams, an archdemon-dragon drowning her screams with roars. "You are not his!" Why was… Mouse yelling? I did not understand it? I did not understand anything! "He will not have you!" I… 

I saw Mouse reach up, magic billowing at its fingertips. I saw the magic come for me. I knew, on some level, I should bring up some sort of shield or glyph. Yet I could not make myself move. I could not make myself focus. All I could do was shut my eyes and wait for it to come. 

When I opened my eyes, I was in another prison. It was a strange sort of place, like a fortress. I had never seen it before. Griffons lined the walls, in various states of rest or flight. Towering stone that felt heavy and old spiraled over my head. If I blinked, I thought I could see shadows of warriors, standing guard. Why was I here? Had Mouse truly sent me here? Why _here_? I did not even know who- 

"Layla!" …Another voice I knew. This was felt like a blow to the back of the head, and I whirled, eyes wide, convinced I was wrong. I was not. It was Commander Duncan, smiling softly as he jogged up. "Are you feeling better?" he asked me, gently ruffling my hair. "Nuada feels absolutely horrible about the bookshelf landing on your head." Nuada…? Wait, was this his prison? Was he here? "Cleon is still yelling at him." No, that could not… be right. I doubted Nuada's prison would feature Cleon. "Aiden is keeping them peaceful, though." I also doubted Aiden would be here, if that were the case. No, this must be a prison of mine. Wynne and Leliana would have no connection to Commander Duncan, after all, certainly not enough for a spirit to copy his form. "Layla?" He crouched to peer at my face and my eyes filled with tears at his concern. This was the Commander Duncan who had treated us all kindly, apologizing frequently for having to push us. This was the Commander Duncan who smiled warmly and told me stories. 

But he… "Ostagar?" He died at Ostagar. I had seen him last by the fire on the eve of a battle. By the time I woke up, he was long, long dead. Did I… ever thank him? Did I ever, truly, say a proper goodbye? 

"You must have hit your head harder than I thought." He carefully ran his fingers over my scalp, checking for bumps or scrapes. "Ostagar is in the history books. We pushed back the horde, slew the Archdemon, and set fire to the darkspawn lairs. They're gone forever." I… "That is why I brought you all here. There was a discussion as to the purpose of Wardens now. It's decided we would be lorekeepers." This was a dream. This was a wonderful dream where Ostagar was a success, and no one died during it. This was a dream where hope was answered with _something_. "You were quite happy about it and dragged the other three to the library. Which, of course, led to the series of incidents that led to the bookshelf falling on you." I… I… I had to focus. I had to do something. But I did not want to. I wanted to go back to my books. "Layla, are you crying?" I was. I was crying. This was the life I _wanted_. I knew I could not have it, not anymore, but I _longed_ for it. I wanted a peaceful life where I could read and study again. I wanted to go _back_ , back to the Tower as it was before, back to where the greatest threat was zealous templars and spells gone awry. 

But you could never go back. I hated it. I _hated_ it. MAKER, I HATED YOU FOR TRAPPING ME IN THIS HORRIBLE LIFE! 

Biting back a sob, I ran. The only path led into the fortress, so I followed it, passing by spirits who all called my name so kindly, everything a mess of blurry blotches as tears streamed down my face. I could not take this. I could not take this. Someone, please, tell me what I am _supposed to do_! Yes, I could shatter this illusion, but what _then_? Even if I found my friends, escaped the Fade, I would be right back to where I had been before. I would be back at the Tower that was filled with too many corpses and even more blood, having to do _something_ about the Blight while not knowing anything besides the tales from old stories! I did not know what to do! None of us did! Why were we the leaders?! Why did we have to deal with it?! 

I tripped, falling face first with a squeak. Slowly, I pushed myself up, hiccupping and crying, trying to keep quiet so the spirits would not find me. I roughly rubbed at my face, coughing on snot, and tried to figure out what was around me. Strangely, there was large glass… thing in front of me, with giant, terrifying horns resting nearby. Inside the glass, old armor gleamed in the faint light, an unstrung bow and dull knife crossed over the breast. The glare of the light made it impossible to make out more details. What _was_ this? 

"Oh, you don't want to look at that old thing." Yelping, I whirled, and could only stare. I was looking at… something. I had no words for whatever it was. I would say 'spirit', except the feel was… different. There was something 'off' about its presence. Though its smile was… very nice. It was a soothing, charming, charismatic smile. I supposed it was rather handsome too, appearing as an older elf with gold hair and green eyes the same color as Cleon's. "Your eyes are puffy," it noted, peering at my face. I immediately ducked my head, only to squeak when it poked my cheek. "Come now. Smile." It tugged at my cheeks, stretching them out, and I batted at its hands to make it stop. "Well, I'll settle for the glower. It's not that scary." Why did no one find my glares scary? "Took a bit to find you." Pardon? 

"You were… looking for me?" I asked. I clasped my hands together to hide their shaking. "Why?" 

"Well…" It shrugged, grinning even as it tugged out two chairs, flopping into one of them. I carefully took the other. "So, I was chatting with a Spirit of Justice, only to be interrupted by a Spirit of Valor. _He_ had been asked to find help by a Spirit of Hope, who was most frantic about the mage she was bound to." I… had bound myself to a Spirit of Hope when I became a Spirit Healer. It… she had… tried to find help for me? "Valor, of course, recognized the mage as someone _he_ had met and worried about, so took the time to hunt me down." Was it… he… the same one I met during my Harrowing? "See, I'm a little different than them." From my view, you were a _lot_ different. "I'm able to jump into these little prisons _much_ easier than them. So, here I am. Though, why Weisshaupt?" I had never heard of the place. "Ah, well, so, what's troubling you?" I stared at it, unable to answer, and it stretched, before turning its chair so it was sitting backwards in it, leaning against the back. "Isseya, my twin sister, was a Circle mage. I highly doubt you _didn't_ learn how to break free from a demon's prison. She had." It smiled so sweetly when talking about her. …Wait, spirits did not _have_ twins! My head hurt… "Since you haven't, I assume you can't focus or whatever it is. And in the fact you've obviously been crying…" It shrugged, still smiling. "Come on. Talk to me. Nothing to lose, right?" 

"I…" I hesitated. This was a stranger, and I had no idea what it was. But its smile was gentle, coaxing, without pushing. It reminded me of Irving's, somehow. That pushed me over the edge. "I do not know what to do!" I was crying again. "I became a Harrowed mage, and then Jowan asked for help, only for me to learn he had lied to my face. Then I was recruited into the Wardens, without any idea _why_!" It winced a little at that. "Then I had to deal with the outside world, which I _hate_! I am always tripping or getting burned or injured and nothing makes sense there!" I was flailing, adding gestures to my rant. "I had to go through a forest, kill something that _bled_ for the first time in my life, and then it was to the Alienage, where people just _watched_ some brat drag off elven girls without even a token protest!" It glared, but I kept rambling. "One of the girls died and another was _raped_! And the guard cared more that the brat died than the trauma those girls went through!" Shianni's grateful look was something I would never forget. "Then we went to Highever, and it was fine! It was fun! Then I watched it all fall apart because of betrayal, and it hit so close to the wound on my heart because of _Jowan_! And we couldn't stay and help, because we had to get to Ostagar, because the darkspawn were there!" Everything hurt! "Then I went through the Joining, watched two people _die_ because of it, told I would never be able to return to my old life! Then it was the battle itself! It was supposed to be an easy job! Climb the Tower and light the beacon! But it was overrun with darkspawn and we had to fight our way up!" I had been so scared. I was still scared. "We had to fight an ogre, and I had to deal with fire. I _hate_ fire!" I was yelling. But I could not stop. "Then we had to deal with more darkspawn attacking us wave after wave after wave, and I had a rock lodge itself in my stomach and fainted. When I came too, I learned the battle was a loss! Everyone was _dead_!" I was trembling, and I hugged myself to try and make myself stop. It did not work. "Everyone was dead, while I slept, helpless and useless! We go to Lothering after that, and I learn a companion of mine was injured this whole time, and he refused to let me help! The one thing I _can_ do is heal, but it is useless!" Everything I knew was useless in this situation! "We protected the town, but it is just going to fall anyway! Then I think things will be fine. I was returning to the Tower and I would be able to get help! But no!" I flailed again, and cracked my hand on the glass container. Even though the noise was loud, it kept watching me, listening carefully. "No, it is overrun with demons and abominations and there is so much blood and rot, and I am still unbelievably useless, and no one is giving any of us help!" I coughed, throat dry, choking on my tears. "I do not know what to _do_! I am seventeen! I should not have to deal with this!" With those words, childish and selfish as they likely were, I dissolved into tears, covering my face to try and muffle the sound. "I do not… know what to do…" 

"Wardens have a bad habit of pushing kids into roles they're not ready for during Blights." Tentatively, I brought my hands down a little, just to my mouth, scared of what look it would have. But, I found an understanding, if bitter, smile, and something about it was strangely soothing. "Sacrifice everything for the Blight. All well and good, and unfortunately necessary at times, but what are kids supposed to do? It's not like we have the experience to know what decisions to make." I hesitantly nodded in agreement. "You're stuck in the middle of a fight, because your commander died unexpectedly, before they could pass on much, and you have to flail your way to some sort of sanctuary, only nowhere is _actually_ safe." Yes, I… how did it know that feeling? "And sometimes you have to do something both brave and stupid to even have a chance of getting out alive, and you half-wonder if it might've been better if you died with the others, because then everything wouldn't hurt, and you wouldn't be so confused." Yes, that was… that was the feeling, wasn't it? "Personally, though, I think you're doing a great job." H-huh? "Well, you aren't dead, for one." It grinned at me, and I could only stare. "So, you have to be doing at least decently. And you're walking on a path, yeah? There's obstacles you didn't expect, but you were still going forward to try and find a way around, yes?" I… supposed we all were. "You're fine. You're doing fine." I never knew how much I wanted, _needed_ , to hear those words right then. "One step at a time, keeping moving forward. You'll gain the experience on the fly, just as the heroes of the past did." It smiled wryly, laughing at a joke I did not understand. "You have to learn how to work together with your fellows, of course. Who knows? Maybe that person who refused your help has a trauma associated with healers." What could a _healer_ do to generate a trauma? "Everyone has their quirks. You can work around them to make compromises." 

"…I am stuck that path, am I not?" I sighed, drooping. I only slumped more when it nodded. "That is marvelous. Truly, it is. Why would the Maker do this to me?" 

"Mmm, could be because the Maker knows you're stronger than you think you are." H-huh? "Or maybe He's just a butcher. I don't remember what I decided, at the end of things, and I definitely don't know what I think now." I blinked slowly, not quite processing, and it took advantage of my shock to stand and come to my side, ruffling my hair. "You all can do it, though. Take a breath and leap. You're more than capable of flying." …Eleni Zinovia, had told me to free the 'Power of the Eagle' or something. Eagles were… important to the Amell family. Perhaps this was what she meant? I had to keep moving, and fly? "You're looking better, puffiness aside." I sulked and it laughed, bright and cheerful. "Ready?" 

"I…" I took a breath and looked up at him. "Can I have a hug first?" Though it looked startled, its smile was gentle as it gave me a warm, comforting hug. I felt the last of my tension disappear, and I felt like my head was clear for the first time in days. Though it ached horrible from the crying, and I was horribly stuffed up. "Thank you." It waited until I pulled back before releasing me, and helped steady me when I stood. "I am ready now, I think." 

"Good girl." It grinned and stepped back. "Oh, and don't worry about me. I'm not like the spirits here. I'll just jump to a different area when the prison falls." I see. 

Carefully, I focused my mind, finding it easier than before despite the pounding headache. The threads of the prison were so simple to find and tug. 

But as it shattered, I remembered something. "Layla." It looked at me in confusion as the pieces fell around us. "My name is Layla Amell," I told it. Perhaps it was foolish, but… but perhaps I should also trust my instincts more. 

"What a pretty name," it murmured, smiling. "Garahel." …P-pardon…? "My name is Garahel." But was that not…?! 

But I blinked and everything was gone. I was alone in the Fade again. Could he have been a conjuration too? The Fade remembered all things. It could remember Garahel, hero of the Fourth Blight. 

But why would my mind call an echo of him? This… made no sense… at all… 

* * *

The first thing I did was make the Fade lead me to some water. While I did not think it would _actually_ clean me, there was something refreshing about splashing water onto my face. It was like I was getting rid of the last of those thoughts. Though, that was probably inaccurate. I would probably have those mental crises frequently. But… but I could get through them. I… knew I could. All I had to do was keep moving forward, however hard it would be, and keep up with my friends. I could… find a way to be useful again, and I could make sense, eventually, of everything. I hoped? No, I _knew_. 

So, after drying my face off, I focused again, willing the Fade to lead me to my friends. A path opened up in front of me and I walked down it, counting steps to not lose my nerve. What was that old children's rhyme? One, two, buckle my shoe? Three, four, open the door? Five, six, pick up sticks. Seven, eight, lay they straight. Nine, ten, a bit fat hen! Eleven, twelve, dig and delve! Thirteen, fourteen, maid a-court- 

In the middle of the thought, the landscape changed. My breath caught as I recognized the castle in front of me. It was Highever, bright and cheerful against the cloudless sky, the laughter of many echoing on the wind. This… must be Nuada's prison. There was no reason for Wynne and Leliana to dream of being here. I… really must have been wrong about him. I had assumed he felt nothing, but that rant in the Tower, and this scene here proved me wrong. He just… would not let himself dwell on it because he cared far more about duty than he did about himself. I was not sure I could understand that thinking. Perhaps it was best I did not. 

Though, why would I come to Nuada first? I would have thought Wynne? Ah, that was probably a thought for another time. 

Shaking my head, I walked through the gates, glancing around the smiling people to try and find Nuada. He had to be here somewhere. I just had to find him and- 

"My pardon!" Blinking slowly, I realized I almost ran into someone. It took another blink to realize it was a spirit in the form of Elspeth. Though her face was stoic, there was a softness about her I barely remembered, having seen it only in Highever. "Are you all right?" it asked in that gentle voice. I nodded, keeping my eyes down. "You are a traveler, yes?" I nodded again, wondering if I should just follow her. Surely, Nuada would be closest to the spirit of his twin, yes? "I wonder… are you a Warden?" Startled, I jerked my head up, to see her as stoic as before. "You carry yourself as they do." I… did? "Uncle Duncan is inside, sparring with Nuada." Nuada! "Are you here to meet him?" Feeling victorious, I nodded vigorously. "Follow me, then." Carefully, it led me through the crowd and into the castle proper. From there, we went to areas I had not seen before the fall, and out the back where a large space of beaten down land had been cleared. In the middle of it, I saw a spirit resembling Duncan. As 'Elspeth' had mentioned, it was sparring Nuada. Both… had large grins on their faces, larger than anything I had seen. This must have been what they were like, before the Blight. 

"Oh, a guest?" Turning slightly, I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from yelping as spirits copying Teyrn Cousland and Teyrna Cousland came up to greet me with smiles. "Welcome to Highever!" 'Teyrn Cousland' greeted, eyes warm and smile bright. "Careful of traps. Cailan and Fergus have been at it again, and I doubt Anora stopped them." I heard snickers and looked to the other side of the sparring to see 'King Cailan' and a dark-haired man who looked much like Nuada and Elspeth laughing. That must be Fergus, or rather 'Fergus'. Near them was a beautiful woman with ice-blue eyes and blonde hair. Though her coloring was different, her gaze was similar to Teyrn Loghain. I… was not sure how to feel about that. He had been kind, and yet he had also left. Whether or not it was the 'right' decision, it _was_ because of him we were stuck in leadership roles none of us really were prepared for. I… could not forgive him for that. "Oren is somewhere around here, so careful if he tackles your legs." I smiled and nodded, pretending to listen as I eyed Nuada. He did not seem to even know I was here, and that made me sulky and annoyed. "But _especially_ be careful of Nuada." Huh? "You're a very pretty lass, and don't think he hasn't noticed." 

"Indeed I have!" _There_ was Nuada, bright and cheerful. He wore a large grin, and barely seemed to be out of breath despite the sparring. "Which means I would like to get to know her." Did he say get to know…? Had he _forgotten_ me?! I… "So, I love you all, but I'm stealing her!" He snagged me by the arm and dragged me inside the castle, taking twists and turns. I followed without a word, still in shock at being forgotten, and then being shocked by how much it affected me. 

We had reached the gates before I thought to squeak, "Nuada!" Wait, if he did not know me… "I mean… um… Lord Nuada…" 

"Okay, I barely tolerate that from Aiden. I am _definitely_ not hearing a 'lord' from you." Nuada turned to face me, grin dropping for a relieved smile. "It's good to see you, Layla," he murmured, bowing slightly. I was… just elated at him actually knowing me. 

I was also a little mad. "You knew who I was from the start!" 

"Well, yes, you are rather distinctive." He grinned at my huff, but it soon faded. "I'm sorry, though." Huh? "I did not want them to realize I had seen through things." 

Ooohhhh. …Wait a second. "Y-you did?" It was probably rude to be shocked, but Nuada was no mage. How could he…? 

"Oh, I almost believed it." He smiled wryly, shrugging. "But I think that Sloth demon decided to try and make me _want_ to stay, instead of tricking me." I frowned in confusion, and he pointed up to some section of the wall. I followed his finger to see an older man standing there, staring at the sky. I was immediately struck by how much like King Cailan and Alistair the man looked. "That's Uncle Maric." Huh? "He's Cailan's father, Layla, the Savior King of Fereldan who disappeared at sea five years ago." …Oh. That was… rather stupid of the demon. "Maybe it's because I was so stubborn to go to sleep. I don't know." He shrugged, smiling still. "It's rather pathetic though, yeah?" Somehow, I did not think he was referring to the demon with that sentence. I almost wanted to say he was calling _himself_ pathetic. "So, how do we leave?" Eh?! "What? I am assuming there is a way to leave, and there's no way _I_ know it." Well, yes, but…! 

"You are willing to leave just like that?" He gave me a confused look. Well, that made two of us. "Are you not going to debate it? This is…" 'Your family', I wanted to say, but lost the courage to do so as he kept staring at me. Instead, I said, "Is this not what you want?" 

"…" He continued to stare, the smile dropping for a neutral, dignified expression. "What I want doesn't really matter." Why did he say that?! "I have a duty as a Cousland to protect Fereldan, and a duty as a Warden to stop the Blight." W-well, yes… but was it not all right to be a _little_ selfish? "Even if I did not have those things, I made a promise to you." There was a fierce yet quiet light in his eyes now. It was a strange light that made my breath catch in my throat from the sheer power and confidence behind it. "I promised you I would help save your home." Yes, he did. "I keep my promises." 

"Then will you promise me something else?" He tilted his head slightly, the light quieting enough to make me lose the awe, but not the feeling. What was that? "Will you promise to never say 'my wants do not matter' again?" He looked confused, so I pressed on, "I would also like you to _tell_ me your wants. Please, talk to me." I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to understand him. The ramble he loosed in the tower… I just wanted to know more. 

"…You are the most confusing person I think I have ever had the fortune of meeting." I… believe that was a compliment? "I will promise to try on that second one." I sulked and he grinned, mischievous and playful. "Oh, Layla, are you really sure you want to hear _all_ my wants?" …WELL, WHEN HE PUT IT LIKE THAT…! "You have the most intriguing blush." 

"I am being serious here!" He just laughed, and it was… different than the one I had been hearing. It was louder, freer, happier. I liked it. "Oh, let us just leave." I held my hand out to him, and he took it without hesitating. 

He still lingered a bit before walking out the gates, though. I waited for him as he glanced back to the castle, likely thinking of everyone in it. But then he faced forward and took the step. As soon as he did, the prison behind us collapsed, shattering into stars. "Well, that was dramatic," Nuada noted as he watched the pieces drift through the air. I squeezed his hand, hoping it reassured him. "It is also quite convenient I am wearing my armor and bearing my weapons now." …Now that he mentioned it, it _was_ convenient. Should not Sloth have taken extra precautions to remove them? "So, what do we do?" 

"Why am I being asked?" I immediately retorted. He looked a little startled, but I continued anyway, "you are the older one, yes?" 

"I… actually, yes, I think I am the older one." He looked thoughtful suddenly. "Now that I'm thinking about it, isn't Aiden the older of us four?" I… wait, that could be correct. Aiden mentioned in passing at some point being twenty-one. …That was far too young to be leading armies! Oh, Maker… "And that was a tangent we didn't need to be on." Ah, right! "So, the reason I asked you is because I know nothing about demons." Huh? 

"B-but you know about Tranquil!" Wait… "Hold on, that came out wrong." That came out really, _really_ wrong. 

"I think you're referring to how I know a lot about the Tranquil?" Relieved, I nodded, and he shrugged. "I just talked to them. It's _kind of_ hard for someone with no magical ability, like myself, to talk to a demon." …Ah. Yes, that did make sense. "Most of what I know is in the books, and it was the bare minimum. It's not like anyone ever expected me to be fighting them." He made a face, and I wondered if he felt as out of his depth as I did. The possibility was soothing. 

"Well, what would you suggest if we were not fighting a demon?" I glanced around the area, making sure there were no Fade denizens nearby. It would not do to be ambushed here. 

"I'd go straight for the leader." Was that not the most dangerous solution? "Typically, armies and countries fall apart when the leader is incapacitated or dead. Think of the Archdemon." Oh, I understood that. "Since I have the training of a 'Champion' among others, I can make my fighting style serve well in the vanguard." I… had no idea what he meant by that! Nuada! "With my armor and shield, it becomes an even more viable tactic to just-" He paused suddenly, studying me. "I lost you, didn't I?" Sulking, I nodded. "I'm sorry. I started thinking too much like a strategist there, huh?" He smiled wryly and I just continued to sulk. "Basically, Layla, I would suggest that tactic because of my training, my arms, and my understanding of strategy." I nodded slowly. "But I don't have a strategy for demons. And, if you don't mind me whining again, I _very_ much hate that." 

"Do you like strategies?" He did not reply. "Nuada?" 

"I'm thinking." Why would he have to think on if he liked something or not? Should he not already know? "I… suppose the answer is yes," he murmured, looking a bit thoughtful. "Certainly, I enjoyed those lessons the most. Loghain also had fun teaching me." He made to cross his arms, but he stopped when he realized we were still holding hands. He did not let go, and I did not either. "Maybe when we're all together again, I should think of some strategies for all of us. It'll be relaxing, at least." If he… said so? "Regardless, Lady Mage of Great Power and Beauty…" I could not help but roll my eyes and he grinned. "What would you recommend, based on your knowledge?" 

"Ah…" I bit my lip, trying to think. We had to be in Sloth's domain. There was no other explanation. This meant… "It knows we are out of its prisons." It had to. It also must be preparing new ones. "We have to stop it before we are trapped again." It would create more realistic ones, ones we would not be able to escape easily. "So, we should go fight it, now." I worried for Wynne and Leliana, but Wynne was a powerful and skilled mage, so she should be fine. I… was not sure on Leliana, but I could hope for her? …I felt bad. 

"All right." He bowed his head to me. "Lead on then, Layla." Nodding back, I breathed deep and focused. With a groan, the Fade yielded to my will, shifting to provide the path I wanted. "That's strangely cool and scary." I glanced at him, certain it was an insult, but he was smiling. "Is it safe to go?" 

"It is as safe as anything is in the Fade." I would let him decide whether that was a good or bad thing. "Here we go." 

I stepped on the path. He followed. But the land underneath our feet shifted and suddenly moved, sending up _flying_ over the Fade. I yelped, clinging to Nuada tightly, and he wrapped an arm around me securely. I almost wanted to yell at him being too calm, again, but then I noticed his jaw was clenched and he was noticeably paler. Maybe… I should pay more attention, huh? 

The piece of land we were on suddenly crashed into an island, sending us both flying. I made the Fade conform to me, letting me land on my feet. Nuada, however, went sprawling, making me laugh. 

"Alack, alay, woe is me, that you would take such amusement from my ungraceful pain," he immediately deadpanned, making me laugh harder. He sighed as he pushed himself up. "We have such a rude host, doing something like that." 

"Ah… and here I thought I was being so kind…" I stiffened as the Sloth demon materialized in front of us, taking the form of an Arcane Horror. "Yet what do we have here? Rebellious minions? Escaped slaves?" It laughed, and the sound made my skin crawl. "My, my… what gall you both have." It smirked at us. "But playtime is over. Time to go back now." No. "I made you happy, yes? I gave you the peace you both wanted. I gave you dreams instead of nightmares. Why would you want to go back?" 

"If you're really that far into our heads, then shouldn't you know the answer?" Nuada asked dryly. He already had his sword palmed, and his shield on his arm. "We've jobs to do, and we'd like to do them." I would not say 'like', but I knew I needed to. 

"As such, we wish to do away with your evil influence at once," I added firmly, hands clasped in front of me. "We will do so by force if it becomes necessary." I said the words more fiercely than I actually felt. But, at the same it, it felt nice to appear confident. 

"You… wish to battle me?" Sloth growled. It shifted, arms coming up and magic wisping about its hands. "You will learn to bow to your betters, mortals!" It launched the magic at the ground, generating a cloud of smoke. I coughing, choking, and my eyes watered as I tried to focus. I thought I could make out the Sloth demon in the blurriness, shifting and twisting. Was that a trick of my eyes or was it shifting into another form? It was probably best to assume the latter, and I should come up with a spell to use as soon… as it… 

I froze as the smoke cleared and I realized just what form the Sloth demon took. It was the apprentice from back then, the one that ran into my inferno spell with the volatile chemicals and caused that horrible accident. I had barely known him. But I remembered his picture. I remembered people sobbing at his memorial. 

I could not breath as he came towards me. I felt myself shake, growing faint, as his clothes caught on fire. The smell of burning flesh choked me as the fire spread to his skin. I watched it turn blister-red to ashy-black, flaking off, cracking the bone. It moved so slowly, and tears of pain streamed down his face, and I… I… 

Wait, no. No, I had resolved to not do this. I would not become trapped in the past. I would carry it with me, yes, but I would move forward. I would not let the demon win. I would not let the darkspawn win. 

I would prove my strength to the Maker whether He wished it or not! 

With my resolve came the spark, and I conjured up the spell from back then, the powerful Inferno whipping around me. It was unsteady, and clumsy, but it burned the tears from my face, and seared the thoughts from my head. I was scared. I was still so scared. But I… I would….! 

"You will not break me!" I snapped, loosing the spell and trapping the 'apprentice' within. I tried not to wince at its screech. "I will not let you!" 

I still jumped when it reached out through the fire to claw at me with skeletal fingers. A bright sword flashed, though, and cut the arms off before they could touch me. "You all right?" he asked me. I nodded, and moved to stand beside him, watching the Sloth demon gather itself back up again and twist into another form as the Inferno died. "That was impressive, by the way." I flashed him a smile, pleased. "So, what do you say next time we just cut off their-" 

"How are you feeling today, little lord?" I did not know the woman the demon shifted into with a gentle smile, the air of a competent healer, and kind eyes. Her voice was lilting, an accent I could not place, and incredibly soothing. "Do you still have a fever?" But while I thought the lady was nice, Nuada's wide-eyed stare said _he_ did not. I panicked when I realized he had paled to the point I could pick out the individual veins in his face, and I thought I saw him shaking. "Here, I have a special medicine for you today. It'll take the pain away." 

"Shut up." Despite the paleness and shakiness, Nuada's voice was fierce and strong. "You are just a ghost of the past," he growled, his grip tightening on his sword. 

"Aw, but I am a ghost who chains you up, yes?" The woman laughed cheerily. "Do you remember? How my medicine paralyzed you?" H-huh? "Do you remember how you could barely breathe, unable to move?" Nuada flinched. "You could still see. You could still hear. You could still taste the bitter poison floating in your mouth with the blood." What did that…? "But you could only lie there, watching the world crawl by." He had… described this to me, once. When I had accidentally paralyzed those soldiers back at Highever, he had… said this exact thing to me. "You were such a cute little doll, slowly suffocating while I tied braids in your hair, hovered knives over your skin." 

"You are a horrible person." The words flew out before I could stop them. "A healer is supposed to protect their patients!" I snapped, livid. I was _proud_ to be a healer, uselessness of the spells lately aside. "Yet you used your talents to almost kill one?!" 

"She's not a healer, Layla," Nuada croaked. He looked at the ground, shaking, refusing to meet my eyes even as I whirled to face him. "She's a Crow, an assassin, who disguised herself as a physician to kill me as a means of shaking my father, who the hirer felt was gaining too much respect and power in the Antivan court, despite being a foreign diplomat." He said the words mechanically, as if talking about someone else. "It was neither the first nor last attempt on my life. Many realized my father's sole weakness was his family, and, as the youngest, Elspeth and I were the easiest targets. That's all." That was not all! Why did he act like it was nothing?! 

"And yet you still cannot let anyone come near you to heal," the woman laughed, still gentle and soothing. My thoughts froze as I connected the pieces at last. Oh. This was why… this was why he… "The more they profess to want to help, the more you remember and flee, scared that it will happen again. What a coward!" Hey! "Pathetic child of the Couslands, unable to live up to the legacy!" Nuada slipped off his shield, still looking at the ground. "Just lie down and rest! Let the world go on! Let it burn, the world that never heard you-!" 

I gaped as Nuada suddenly threw his shield, it sinking _firmly_ into the lady's neck and snapping her head back in an explosion of blood. Um… 

"I swear; that trick gets more useful as I get older." I glanced at Nuada, who looked… pale. He still looked pale, but he was not hiding behind a false smile. If anything, he looked even more determined. "Who knew getting bored in Orlais would be this beneficial?" he added lightly. The body of the woman disappeared, but I still sensed the demon nearby. This was not over yet. 

Still… "Why did you learn it?" I asked, cautiously looking around the area. Where was it? 

"I got _really_ bored and there were a bunch of shields about, so I thought 'why not?' and started throwing them." He shrugged, moving to get his shield. "I practiced enough that I'm accurate even when one eye closed." He must have been _really_ bored. "Since no one ever expects that sort of trick, it became useful." WELL, OF COURSE NO ONE EXPECTED IT! "It is particularly useful since I know quite a few different fighting styles." I see. …Wait… 

"Did you not mention something about 'champion'?" Something flickered in the corner of my eye and I whirled to face it. But there was nothing. Where was it?! 

"It probably has another name, but it's colloquially dubbed 'Champion'. It is my primary fighting style, the foundation on which I use the others I learned." He slipped his shield back on his arm. "It's… the same fighting style Loghain knows." Oh? …Oh. "He taught it to me. Users of it are defenders, protectors. They hold the line or break through the enemy with the vanguard. It is a very strategic fighting style." He shrugged, looking back at me. "I like it. But sometimes, you have to use unconventional means to get everyone home alive." Ah… "So, is the demon dead or did it go into hiding?" 

"It is the latter." He sighed, and I smiled slightly in amusement. "It is a bit fun, seeing you out of your depth." 

"I am so pleased to be your entertainment." I laughed outright at his deadpanned response. "Truly, I am." But my laughter died abruptly when I realized just what was happening underneath Nuada's feet. "What's… whoa!" He jumped back, just in time to avoid the Sloth demon's attempt to claw him. "That's just rude." Nuada! Be serious! 

Sloth growled as it hovered, moving its hands in front of it. I knew that glow. It was preparing an ice spell. And if… no, I needed to be confident. The way the air hummed said the ice spell would be a Blizzard. Blizzards were tricky to deal with as they had a good chance of freezing someone in _addition_ to doing painful damage. 

"I'll keep them busy if you've an idea for a spell to kill them." I looked at Nuada, startled, but his gaze did not waver. "That okay?" he asked. I bit my lip, but nodded. "Just let me know if I need to move." With those words, he surged forward, crashing into the demon and knocking it off-balance. The spell it conjured went awry and shattered one of the rocks nearby. Yes, we needed to finish this battle _now_. What should I do? What spell should I…? 

Magic. It used magic. There was one spell, one I knew well. It was a higher leveled spell, so I had always avoided using it outside of strict, strict practice. But I knew it. I just had to use it. My hands shook at the thought, but I grit my teeth. I summoned the Inferno. I could do anything. 

I opened my mouth to say the incantation, but snapped it shut. Flemeth had said no incantations. I would follow her instructions here. I would call to my magic, and make it obey me. I was the mage. I was the master of magic. I would not allow it to do anything I did not wish it to! 

So, I focused instead, drawing the magic to me, eyes narrowing as I kept sight of Nuada fighting the Sloth demon, ducking under spells, flinching as pieces of ice flew over his shield to bite into his face. Then, when the spell was ready, and the demon had its back to me, I loosed the spell: Mana Clash. 

The effect was immediate. With a shriek that echoed harshly, I tore the magic from its body, ripping the body into pieces of mist that dissolved. I swallowed back nausea as it faded away, clasping my hands tightly to avoid shaking. I… did it. I had no idea what to feel about it, but I did it. 

"Remind me not to get you mad." Nuada's nonchalant comment made me laugh harder than I should. "I do _not_ want to be on the wrong end of your spells," he continued, just as lightly. It was as if he was making an observation about the weather. "So, now that it's dead, what do we…?" He trailed off as the ground began shaking. Startled, I looked around, and thought I saw the very _sky_ waver and ripple. What was…?! 

"This section of the Fade is collapsing." Yelping, I whirled to see Garahel sitting on top of one of the rock structures. Where had he come from?! "It's lost its owner, so the Fade is reclaiming the area," he continued blithely. I shared a wide-eyed look with Nuada. "You'll want to get your companions. If they remain in their prisons, they'll be stuck forever in them." I… did not know that could happen! "I've killed the demons guarding their prisons already, so you should be able to just run in and get them." I… uh… 

"Not to sound ungrateful, but why are you helping us?" Nuada asked. That sounded like the best question. "Why does it matter to you?" 

"Well, would you believe me if it's because I feel like I owe you?" Um… "Heroics is just a pretty way of describing the horrors of battle, and you're stuck in a mess because of _my_ heroics." His demeanor and gaze was fierce, even though his pose remained relaxed. "Besides, someone has to make your job easier for once." Well… 

The ground shook again, and I realized we had no time. So… "Thank you!" I yelled to him, as I snatched Nuada by the arm and bolted down the first path I could find. I thought I heard Garahel laugh as we left. I hoped it was a good thing. 

"So, Layla," Nuada began through pants. He easily caught up to me, but made sure to keep pace, adapting for my smaller stride. "Can you explain why Garahel is here?" Um… "I'm assuming that handsome spirit was Garahel. There are portraits all over the place of him, with a particularly nice one in Starkhaven." Ah… 

"I do not know." And there was not another thing to say. 

* * *

I was not sure how long we ran. It could have been only a handful of steps. It could have been the entire length of the Korcari Wilds. I only know I was out of breath and terrified everything was going to collapse on us when the Fade suddenly twisted around us, bringing us into the Tower. 

"Just to clarify…" I tried not to glower at Nuada's ability to make words. While we were both sweaty and panting, he looked like it had been a brisk little bit of exercise, while I felt like I was dying. "We're still in the Fade, right?" he asked. I nodded, placing my hands on my knees as I tried not to pass out. He gently rubbed my back. "So, if this is a prison, it must be Wynne's, right?" I nodded again. I could not think of why Leliana would be here in the Tower. "So…" Both of us winced as the ground shook. "I'm going to poke my head into that room." He pointed for emphasis, just in case I had missed it. "You try to not die." Unable to help it, I reached up to tug his ponytail in protest. "Ow! Hey, that's attached to my head!" He pouted at me and I managed a smile. "You can be jealous of my oh-so-lovely and long hair later." …Now that he mentioned it, his hair _was_ really long. It was longer than mine! 

As I focused on just breathing, Nuada tried to get the door open. Judging by the grunts and foreign curses, I assumed it was locked. Was _that_ why Wynne had not managed to escape? That would make some… wait, no, it would not. Wynne knew earth spells, particularly the Stonefist. I highly doubted a door could survive _that_ spell more than twice. So, where was Wynne? She should have been… able to escape…? 

I had just caught my breath when I heard the door splinter open, and glanced up to see Nuada had kicked it in, still growling words I did not understand under his breath. However, when he actually stepped inside, the words disappeared for a low whistle. "Well, damn," he murmured. Morbidly curious, I shakily made my way over to him and peeked around him. "I can't say I blame Wynne for locking up." 

Honestly, I could not either. There was blood all over the place, even dripping from the _ceiling_. Blackened outlines against cracked walls gave the impression of where bodies _had_ been before becoming nothing but ash. Bookshelves were crushed, the pages scattered about. Lifeless eyes stared at nothing, but gave the impression of silent, screaming accusations anyway. 

All of them were the survivors Wynne had kept safe in the first floor library. Not one of them was breathing. 

For a moment, I thought even Wynne, collapsed on her knees in the center, staring at nothing, was among the dead. But then I realized she was breathing, just slowly, as if she hated each movement. Dried tears clung stubbornly to her face, and her bloody hands kept absently stroking Petra's hair, not quite noticing it was just Petra's head. The rest of her body was… pinned against a crushed pillar a short distance away. 

"Wynne?" I called softly. She did not react, so I tiptoed closer to her, trying not to flinch as my feet splashed in the blood. "Wynne?" Even though I crouched next to her, she did not acknowledge me. "Wynne…" I knew how much she loved the Circle. She might hold the duty of mages to Thedas was of greater importance, but it was still her home. She was the 'mother' or 'grandmother' of many of the apprentices. It hurt to be left behind, but how did it feel when you outlived those younger than you? 

"I don't suppose we could just pick her up and carry her out of here?" Nuada asked, leaning over me to peer at Wynne's face. I had no idea how to answer, so I shrugged. "Well, any ideas? All of mine run the gamut of 'slap some sense' back in, and that's probably not the way to go." 

"That is so violent!" He smiled wryly and I sighed. "No, no punching Wynne, please." Still, it did prompt me to poke her cheek. It got me a small frown. "Wynne? Can you hear me?" Was that a little groan? I thought it might be. "Wynne, we are in the Fade." _That_ got me a reaction, even if it was just her turning her head to stare at me blankly. "This is just a nightmare." 

"It's a pretty illogical one at that." Confused, I twisted to look at Nuada, who was studying the ceiling. "You can't get a blood splatter pattern like that on the ceiling by just throwing bodies at it." I was _not_ going to ask how he knew that. "Also, there is too much blood for this number of bodies." There was? Then did that mean… oh, Nuada, I did not want to think about that! "When you put in the fact that some of the bodies aren't even wounded and… Layla, I'm being too logical about scary things again, aren't I?" He turned to face me, and I nodded. "I'm sorry." He smiled sheepishly. "Well, the point I was trying to make, Wynne, is that it's inconsistent." The ground shook again, and I saw the wall crack. Uh oh. "Also, we're in trouble and still need to get Leliana." I hoped she was well… 

"Wynne, please, believe me." I placed a hand on her shoulder, glad she was blinking slowly, trying to process everything. "Please? You know me, Wynne. You basically raised me." I held my breath as she continued to stare, only just barely checking the urge to cheer when she nodded. "Thank you, Wynne." 

"Here, your legs have probably locked up." Nuada knelt down and Wynne climbed onto his back silently, glancing around the area as he stood. Some color was returning to her face. "Wow, Wynne, you are _really_ light." I just hoped she was comfortable against Nuada's armor. "Well, let's get going." The ground shook again, almost enough to make me stumble. "Now." 

Without a word, I led the way to the door again, bolting down the hallway. I heard Nuada behind me, and I thought I caught whispers of Wynne's voice, but could not stop. As the prison shattered around us, I noticed the area itself was following. "We are going to have to jump a bit," I noted mournfully when I realized there simply was not enough ground to reshape into a full path. "Will you be all right?" I turned to face him, glad that Wynne's eyes were back to normal, if horribly guilty and sheepish. 

"I'm honestly barely noticing Wynne's weight," Nuada replied easily. He smiled briefly at her before returning his attention to me. "It's no worse that swamp running with a shield on the back." Why did he know…? Argh, this was not the time! 

Nodding, trusting him, I willed the Fade to make as much of a path as possible to get to Leliana, grimacing as the tremors came quicker and quicker. We jumped from one bit of land to the next. 

At some point between one jump and the next, the Fade rippled into the inside of a Chantry. It was large and warm, much more so than the one in the Tower. Thankfully, Leliana was easy to find, praying in front of the brazier, a Revered Mother next to her. 

"Blessed art thou, who exists in the sight of the Maker," I heard her murmur as we ran up. The tremors were not as strong here, but I knew that would not last. "Blessed art thou, who seeks His forgiveness." 

"Leliana!" I called, sliding to a stop behind her. She yelped and whirled, staring at me with wide-eyes. "We found you!" I smiled brightly, but it faltered when she kept staring at me. "Leliana?" 

"Who… are you?" I felt like I got hit in the stomach. I knew we had not known each other _long_ , but… "Revered Mother?" She turned to talk to the 'Mother', who had to be a spirit in disguise. "I do not know these people." 

"Wow, it blocked her memories?" Nuada sighed, sounding and _looking_ exasperated. "I hate demons." He carefully let Wynne down from his back, and she nodded, glancing around the area. "I really do." 

"Keep them busy," Wynne whispered. She had a bit of a smile on her face. "I've an idea." Very well, but how were we supposed to do that? 

"Leliana, this isn't real." Nuada! Now was not the time to be blunt! Leliana did not even remember us! "This is a dream, of some kind." I fought the urge to groan as Leliana looked more and more baffled and distressed. "I suppose you got a bit lucky. That Revered Mother there could have easily been Marjolaine." Who? 

"H-How do you know about…?" Leliana yelped. Her eyes were wide and her face went pale. "No, I… I left that life behind. I did!" Um… "How do you even know about… Oh, wait, I _do_ know you." H-huh? "You're Nuada Cousland. I saw you at a lot of the balls in Orlais." I was so lost. I should just focus on the Revered Mother to make sure she did not attack while Wynne was doing… whatever she was doing. 

"Yes, Marjolaine greatly enjoyed trying to flirt with Fergus." Leliana sighed and Nuada smiled. "It's all a part of the Game, yeah? I recall you being skilled at charming your way into places." 

"W-well, I dislike needless killing!" I was _really_ lost, but I shifted to stand between Leliana and the spirit when it reached for her. "That's allowed! Mostly." 

"Yeah, I know. I'm sure you're out of practice now." Leliana grimaced at that. "Do you still enjoy the old games, though?" Leliana did not answer. "Ah, please, forgive and forget that question. It was far too personal." Nuada bowed with a flourish and a wink, startling a laugh out of Leliana. "But, still, did you not tell Aiden you had a reason for leaving the cloister?" 

"I…" Leliana chewed on her lower lip, crossing her arms as she thought. "There is something familiar about that." She winced, rubbing her head. "Ah, my head is all foggy." The spirit reached again, and this time I slapped its hands away. It would not have Leliana. "Maybe I should lie down." 

"As a healer, I would suggest you open your eyes instead." A loud _crack_ split the air and the walls of the chantry, and prison, splintered. "Leliana, this is the true face of what has been around you," Wynne whispered, one hand held out and glowing. I gaped when I realized she had been _unraveling_ the prison. "See the Revered Mother for the demon she is." I returned my attention to her and quickly cast an Arcane Bolt as the desire demon shrieked and tried to claw me. "Do you understand now? Let's follow these two, as we have been." Wynne smiled wryly, even as Leliana stared in shock. "Clearly, they have stronger wills than us." I would not say that! I would not say that at all! 

"I… yes." Leliana hesitated before nodding, quickly grabbing my hand. I squeezed back reassuringly. "I still do not have all the pieces, but I know you must be friends," she murmured, eyes fierce and warm. "I will not let the demon take me." The ground shook violently, and the last of the prison disappeared. "What is going on?" 

"The area is reforming," Wynne answered. She conjured up a barrier and wrapped it around us four as we grouped together, watching everything fall apart around us. "We will be fine. Once it is done, we will be jolted back into our bodies in the mortal world." I was so glad Wynne knew exactly what was going on. "It's almost done. We just have to wait a little longer." I still felt my stomach plummet as the ground below us dropped. Wynne's barrier kept us up, but I did _not_ like that distance below us. 

Shaking my head, I clutched Leliana's hand tightly and looked out, trying to find something safe to look at. I grimaced when I realized I could see Mouse in the distance, smirking at me in arrogant pride. I was tired of demons. Why could I not talk to a spi… rit…? 

My thoughts slowed as Mouse slowly shifted its form. When I blinked, I saw no pride demon, but instead a spirit, a true spirit, with a smile so soft and eyes so wise. What was… how did that…? I… 

I gasped, jolted out of the thought path and realized I was staring at the Tower's ceiling. My body felt stiff and cold against the rough, bloody stone floor. I could smell the rotting corpses not far away, hear the squelch of the fleshy bits of corruption on the walls. I was back. I was back in my own body. I was out of the Fade. But what had that been, right in the end? How had the demon become a spirit? 

"Layla?" I blinked slowly, eyes focusing on Wynne's face as she hovered over me. "Easy there, child," she murmured, helping me sit up. I glanced around to see Nuada and Leliana already awake, talking about something as they rested against the wall. "We're back." She smiled at me, eyes shimmering. "Oh, I'm sorry to have left you alone, there." Wynne… "But I'm very proud of you." Huh? "Nuada said you had been the one to get him. It had to be scary." I… "But you did it. I am so very proud of you, for finding that inner strength." Wynne… "Come on. We all need a bit to recover before continuing, so let's rest against the wall too, okay?" 

I nodded slowly, feeling a little disoriented. Right, it was back to trying to save the Tower after being lost in dreams. That was… actually, in retrospect, it was _annoying_ that we got caught up in that. 

I truly hoped the others were having a much easier time than us. I truly, truly did. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: Aaah, the Fade. Yeah, I didn't do all the worlds. No. I like what bits of sanity I have left, thank you. Brought Mouse back in, and hinted a little at something Solas mentions in Inquisition. ABOUT GARAHEL… well, what does everyone think? Personally, I've not read anything that explains how the Wardens 'know' the soul of the Warden is destroyed by the Archdemon. Would it not be fun to have them be a little wrong? Also, the 'glass thing' is Garahel's coffin. Well, 'coffin'. I think it just has his armor and weapons. Mentioned in… the Last Flight, I believe. The light Layla refers to in Nuada's eyes is a reference to one of the potential lines _Howe_ can say to a Cousland!Warden. LONG chapter, but hopefully you guys enjoy the insights and bits of character development for Layla and Nuada. 
> 
> Also, I finally got World of Thedas, volume 2, which gives character things. I can already tell you that I was wrong about a couple of things, but nothing completely lore-breaking from my understanding, so… yay? 
> 
> Next Chapter – Zathrian and Lady confrontation with Aiden. 


	47. Chapter 42) Vengeance

Chapter 42) Vengeance 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"Now, it's important to not hate," Dad whispered to me. He clung to me desperately, and I pat him on the back. What else could I do? Mom was dead. I had to be strong for him. "Hate leads to anger, and anger just feeds vengeance."_

_I didn't know that word. "What that? The… ven… ven…" I tried to pronounce it, but I couldn't fit it around my teeth. It felt wrong. "That last one."_

_"It's a sickness that consumes you, Aiden. Leaves you with nothing of yourself." Dad shook. "Don't… don't hate… be wary. Oh, be wary always. But try not to HATE."_

_"Okay." I'd keep my temper in check. No matter how much I hated… I would always remember the 'good' ones existed with the bad._

* * *

I really hoped the others were having a much easier time than us. I really, really did. 

I bit back a sigh as I shifted, trying to get comfortable on the stone floor. And trying to figure out if the tea being served was safe. Because yes, there was tea. Tea. Being served by… by some demon… spirit… thing… that I actually had next to no clue about and Morrigan wasn't explaining anything. Likely because she didn't know either. Not that she'd admit it. 

I also wanted to know where the cups came from. Were they from the camp? There was something really disconcerting about that. There really was. At least the tea was good? I assumed so, at least. I was a little too weirded out to taste anything, but Lady Elspeth and Alistair seemed to enjoy it, and Morrigan and Cleon hadn't complained. Sten, showing he was the smartest of us, refused to touch it. 

"I suppose it is best to simply be straightforward, yes?" she began gently. Her eyes were warm. I felt like I was in the branches of the Vhenadahl, watching the sunlight filtering through the leaves. "It was Zathrian who created the curse these beings suffer." …So, we were cleaning up someone else's mess. Terrific. "The same curse, of course, Zathrian's own people suffer." No wonder he'd known how to cure it. 

"That would take considerable amount of power," Morrigan replied. Her frown implied skepticism, and she shifted to lean a little more into Cleon. How she was comfortable curling up when he was wearing armor, I had no clue. Where had that even come from? Cleon just said Morrigan passed it to him. "Blood magic might grant it, but even then…" 

"Ah, little da'len, there are more secrets to the world than your mother told you." Morrigan bristled, and the Lady simply smiled. "You do not know everything. No one does." The Lady shook her head. "But you are right. It was blood magic that allowed him to do so." Did the Dalish not have the same… no, Cleon looked a bit shaken. I wasn't sure what to feel. I _heard_ about the dangers and horrors of blood magic, yes, but… honestly, I think I've seen worst at this point. 

"Then if had to take a great deal of emotion, right?" Alistair asked tentatively. He squirmed in his seat when all eyes focused on him, flinching when Sten prodded his shoulder to make him sit straighter. "It's something they teach templars. Emotions can give mages extra power. It's _dangerous_ , but it can." 

"Correct. Well done." Alistair ducked his head shyly at the praise, glowering when Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Centuries ago, when the Dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close to this forest." Cleon's eyes widened, and he noticeably winced. "Yes, Cleon. It is related to that. Would you like to tell the story?" 

"I…" Cleon began, before sighing. "Very well." He straightened in his posture, eyes closed. I shifted so it was a little easier to look at him without straining my neck. "The shemlen had wanted to drive the Dalish away." This was different from modern times, how? "The Clan at the time was Zathrian's. He was still just the First, the heir, to the Keeper then. He had a son and a daughter he loved dearly." I had a sudden sick feeling of where this was going. "While he was out hunting, humans fell on the Clan. The Keeper slain, and many were captured. Zathrian's son and daughter among them." A _very_ sick feeling. "The shemlen… they tortured the boy, slammed his head against the stone until it cracked open." A shift of movement caught my eye and I glanced to see it was Sten. Guilt was in his eyes, fury in his stiff posture. I wondered, but now wasn't the time. "The girl, they raped, left for dead." I was right. Shianni… were you okay? Please, be okay. "The Dalish found her, but she learned later she was with child, and in despair, threw herself from a cliff." 

"In fury, and despair, Zathrian came to this ruin here, and dragged me from the trees and ground," the Lady continued. Her gently voice didn't soothe any of our spirits. "So, I was bound to the body of a great wolf, called 'Witherfang'." …Wasn't that the wolf we were supposed to… um… awkward. "Mad from disorientation, I fell on the humans of the tribe, killing many, and cursing even more." 

"Thus the werewolves of legend came to be," Lady Elspeth murmured, setting her empty cup next to Alistair's. She looked… surprisingly thoughtful in her stoicness. Was that even a word? I didn't know. I was still reeling at the whole 'gentle lady spirit person killed a bunch of people in the past and admitted it easily'. "If they are the same as the ones from human stories, they caused quite a bit of grief for those who had no knowledge of the conflict." 

"That is, unfortunately, the nature of vengeance." She looked saddened. "But Zathrian got what he wanted. The human tribes fled the area, their cursed brethren left to rot in the forest, pitiful and mindless animals." 

"Until we met you, Lady." I nearly jumped at Swiftrunner's voice. I'd half-forgotten about him. "You showed us another way," he mumbled, kneeling and talking to the ground. "You gave us peace." And they would defend her to the death and beyond for it. I knew of elves who would do the same for humans that showed them a bit of kindness. 

"But you fell on the Dalish." Sten talking voluntarily to strangers? The world must be going mad. "Tore them asunder," he added. I thought there was a growl to his voice. "Just as beasts to." 

"And I will not deny there was some motivation of revenge in it." The Lady was _really_ calm, still smiling gently. "We seek to end the curse," she explained. "The crimes committed against Zathrian's children were grave, unforgivable, but they were committed by those who are long dead. Not a one of the werewolves you see before you was even born at the time." Not a… there had to be over fifty just _here_. "I have asked Zathrian to come here every time his Clan passed this way. He always ignored it, even when I asked Kieran to bear the message." Cleon started at the name. Who was that? "We will no longer be denied." Some of the gentleness hardened. "We attacked his Clan so that he could _not_ ignore us." And then he sent us to go for an alternate way to end the curse. The one that saved his people, and left the ones here to suffer. 

"So, would you like one of us to leave and get Zathrian?" I asked. I was surprised when she shook her head with an almost bitter smile. "Why not?" 

"It shan't be necessary. After all, Cleon is here." My eyes darted to Cleon, who had an impassive look on his face. "Zathrian believes I am a threat, and has stopped me from approaching him many times, fearing what I, or the werewolves, might do to him." Cleon frowned in confusion, and I thought he was paying a lot of attention to her branches. "I've little doubt we'll see him soon. There are few things Zathrian cares for more, after all." 

"…You were that wolf." Cleon, _that_ was a subject change. "The wolf I would often see in the forest while growing up," he murmured, eyes still focused on the branches. The Lady simply smiled. "The wolf that howled that day, saved me from being dragged like Tamlen." What in Thedas was he talking about? 

"I'd hoped to get to you sooner, but the defenses of the ruin are strong if you do not take the proper paths." She shrugged, still smiling. "I'm glad I got you to the Warden and the little mage. I know the former is deceased, but how fares the latter?" How did she know Master Duncan was… you know what? I wasn't going to even ask. 

"Hopefully not dealing with anything so complicated." I _definitely_ agreed with that statement. "But I've a question." Hmm? "Did you not think that, by attacking the Clan, you gave him justification for keeping the curse in place?" …Right, savagely attacking his clan, just like… well, yes, this wasn't very thought out. 

"It was considered." She sighed, one hand resting on her cheek. "That is why we did not attack for so long." Finally tiring and snapping. Yeah, because _that_ always turned out well… 

"I see." Cleon's eyes darted to the side suddenly. "Someone is approaching." Really? I didn't hear anything. 

But he was right. Coming down the hallway was someone. A someone we all knew well and whose presence made all of us stand up again. Seeing the dark, stern frown on Zathrian's face as he entered the room, I knew this wouldn't end well. Unless a miracle happened. Which we tended to be fresh out of. A lot. 

"Zathrian!" Despite everything we heard, Cleon's face lit up with a bright smile and he immediately bolted for Zathrian's side. Zathrian's stern face softened into a smile when he saw Cleon. "Were you worried?" he asked, a touch teasing. An old joke? "I am a master hunter, Zathrien." 

"You're still the da'len who gets in over his head and tries to play it off." It must be. Zathrian's reply was immediate. "The sun was setting, and it is dangerous to be out in the forest at night," he murmured. Cleon nodded, eyes soft with understanding. "I came to make sure you all had not been waylaid." And, conveniently, this would allow him to check if we had the Heart or not. No way I'd say that aloud, of course. "And here you are, spirit." Zathrian's attention focused on the lady. "Still lingering with your-" 

"She is the Lady of the Forest!" Swiftrunner snarled, leaping to growl right in Zathrian's face. I thought Cleon might leap, but he just looked… really confused over something. He kept frowning at Zathrian. "You will address her properly!" 

"…You've taken a name, spirit?" You know; it did make sense she hadn't originally been called anything. "And you've given names to your pets?" The werewolves growled. Cleon, however, shook his head slightly, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "These beasts who follow you?" 

"It was they who named me, Zathrian," the Lady answered, speaking calmly, coolly. With a gentle hand, she urged Swiftrunner back to the side. I noticed, though, that she kept a wary distance from Zathrian. And refused to let any of the werewolves come near her. "And the names they take are their own. They follow be because I help them find who they are." 

" _Who_ they are has not changed from _whom_ their ancestors were," Zathrian growled. The grip on his staff tightened. Cleon actually stepped a bit back, looking like someone just suckerpunched him. Had… he not believed the Lady? Or was it just a shock to have it confirmed, right in front of him? "Wild savages! Worthless dogs!" I made myself find some amusement in how insulted Alistair and Lady Elspeth looked. This whole situation was just becoming tenser by the second. Not good for the heart. "Their twisted shape only mirrors their monstrous hearts!" I thought it a bit telling Cleon moved to the side, the same distance from Zathrian as from the Lady. "This is why I refused to come to talk. What is the point? We know where this ends." Because both sides were stubborn idio… wait, no, I had no right to say that. Think that. 

"It does not have to be this way, Zathrian." The Lady held out her hands entreatingly. "There is room in your heart for compassion. Why else would you love Cleon and Lanaya so dearly?" The glare Zathrian threw told me it wasn't the best of ideas to try and bring them into it. "Surely, your retribution is spent." Oh, I don't know. He was old, and all he had were the memories. That had to weigh heavily, right? 

"My retribution is eternal, as is my pain!" I… part of me knew I should intervene, but what right did I have? Yes, this group elected me leader, but really, that didn't mean anything. "This is justice!" I only yelled during the dragon fight because I remembered the story of Garahel, since it was so popular in the Alienage, and it just _happened_ to work. "No more!" 

"Are you certain your pain is the only reason you will not end this curse?" The Lady actually raised her voice, tone shifting into mockery. I instinctively winced, curling into myself. Wanting to hide, avoid becoming a scapegoat. "So long as it exists, so do you, after all." Oh, right, because people actually _wanted_ to live forever when the world was so bloody messed up. 

"As if I care about such things! Truly, it is wonderful, watching those I love wither and die around me!" Wrong thing to say. Really, _really_ wrong thing to say. "But I did what was necessary! I did what was just!" …Was his staff glowing? I couldn't tell. "And it still is! I'll bear the burden of immortality if that's the price of justice!" 

It all seemed to happen so slowly. Zathrian cast a spell. A very powerful spell, one that made the air shriek, the trees tremble. It headed for the Lady, slicing through werewolf limbs as they tried to intercept it and failed. The Lady didn't move, letting it come, looking very resigned to everything. 

And then suddenly Cleon was pushing her out of the way, shielding her from the spell himself, and all I could see was red, red, _red_ splatter everywhere as he flew back, landing at the base of the giant tree, tangled in the roots. Red trickling into the cracks. Red spotting the trunk. Red pooling underneath unmoving body. Red pouring down grey, sickly face. 

Red, red, red. I wanted to _shriek_. 

"CLEON!" Zathrian screamed for me, and I felt my blood boil as he threw his staff to the side, calmer, gentler magic wrapping around his hands as he cradled Cleon. It would probably be easier to describe where Cleon _wasn't_ bleeding from. I had no idea how the armor was intact, though. I had no idea how he wasn't ripped apart like the werewolves who'd tried to do the same. But that didn't seem to matter with _all the damn red seeping through the joints_. "Ir abelas, da'len. Ir abelas…" Tears streamed down his face as he tried to do something with the magic. Heal? Was that healing magic? 

That didn't matter. Cleon was hurt. Cleon was dying (or dead). And I had angry werewolves. Rightfully angry, but if they acted on their anger now…! 

"Don't you dare!" I growled, sliding in front of Swiftrunner as he tried to lunge at Zathrian. He tried to force past me, but anger made me strong, too strong, and I shoved him back, pressing on his shoulder to make him _kneel_. "You will not interfere!" I glared up at the others. "Make sure none of the werewolves move!" Elspeth, surprisingly, was the first to move, actually pinning a couple of werewolves down with well-placed arrows. Sten and Alistair moved next, almost in tandem, knocking down those that lunged. Morrigan, however, ignored them entirely. Ashen, shaking and actually _tripping_ , she went to Cleon, whispering hurriedly to Zathrian. He whispered back and, within a couple moments, Morrigan had the same gentle magic around her hands. Did… did she _just_ learn healing magic? On the fly? 

Not my concern. Really, really not my concern right now. 

"He attacked the Lady!" Swiftrunner snarled. He tried to stand, but I shoved him down, feeling myself grow colder, stronger, angrier. It was almost sickening how exhilarating the feeling was. "He violated parley!" 

"And it was one of _mine_ who protected her," I hissed back, glaring down at him. He flinched away. "If Cleon dies despite their efforts, I will gladly let you have him. I will even help." I would. I almost longed for it. "But if your people kill Zathrian, Cleon loses the only chance he has of surviving this. _No one else_ here knows how to heal. Morrigan is only helping, not leading." I didn't like how she kept going paler and paler. How bad was he? Was he…? "If that happens, I will turn my wrath on you and yours." I pressed a little harder on his shoulders. "Stand. Down. Wait. I won't hesitate to protect Cleon." 

Swiftrunner actually whimpered before scooting away, still kneeling. His fellows mimicked him, the ones not bleeding out from severed limbs, at least. Elspeth kept an arrow notched, though, and Alistair and Sten kept their weapons in hand. 

Trusting them, I moved to the Lady. She looked… absolutely frozen. Only a quick flick of her eyes hinted she even knew I was at her side. 

"I… never thought he would do that," she whispered. All of her attention was on Zathrian and Morrigan, trying to save Cleon. There was so much _red_ . I felt myself shaking over it, feeling nauseous. I couldn't look. I tried to look down, but the red had already streamed down to us, curling around my feet. I tried looking at the sides, but there was always the red in the corner of my eye. I settled on the ceiling. Nothing there yet. "I always figured he could talk Zathrian down. Convince Zathrian to do away with the curse." Once he got over his shock. "I never thought he'd be willing to shield me, willing to take the brunt of Zathrian's vengeance himself." And now look. "I don't know if he'll live." I thought I saw her branched hands shake as they came up, pressing together briefly as if in prayer. Did Spirits pray? "Even with that armor's protection, I do not know if he will live." What about the armor? What did Morrigan give Cleon? "I would be willing to do anything to save him, yet I am helpless." She laughed bitterly. "So, this is that feeling. I have never experienced it before. It seems even the old learn new things." 

That was great, but I still felt like this was my fault. This was the _second_ time acting as a proper elf got someone I cared about hurt. Shianni, beaten and raped because I was too slow, because I had been so _polite_ to Vaughan when I could have done away with him then, making him focus on _me_ and not _her_. Nola, dead because I… I… because of myself, because of hum… no. no, no, no, I… 

"No, I can't…" I mumbled, trying to get a grip. If I thought aloud, would it be easier? "I promised. And bad things just happened and…" 

"Promise?" It was a bit startling to see her bend down, to peer up at my face. I hadn't thought she'd pay attention. "What promise?" she asked gently. Maybe in her helplessness, she chose to focus on something she could do. Listen. 

And I, shaking, wanting to be ill from all the read and all the tension, talked. "To my dad. He said to not hate humans after Mom died, and-" 

"Did he truly say that?" Her smile was soft. "Or was he simply encouraging you not to become so lost in your hatred you forgot to think clearly?" …I… um… "It's healthy to hate. It's healthy to love. These are things I've learned, walking the world as I have." She laughed, as gentle as her smile. "It must've been so hard, swallowing all that anger down. You must've hurt a lot." Um… "The werewolves say they hate elves. They know, of course, that 'not all' elves are like Zathrian, but still, they must express their anger in some way. It's fine. It's healthy. The ones who protest are probably the ones who, directly or indirectly, guilty of something, becoming so defensive." A-ah… "Think on it, Aiden." 

"Y-yeah, sure?" I thought I heard a muffled groan, and automatically whirled to find the source. I damn near started crying when I realized it was Cleon, his hand moving sluggishly to brush against Morrigan's cheek, smearing blood over it. Alive. He was alive. Whatever the damage, whatever the consequences, he was _alive_ , and we could all work to help him. 

"Zathri…" Cleon tried to say. His voiced sounded a bit flat, and a little slurred. Did he have a concussion? …Wait, what was I thinking? That would probably be the _least_ of his injuries! "Zathri… an… " His hand fell on Zathrian's shoulder, curling into it like a child taking comfort in a parent's embrace. "Kind." Huh? "Kind… stern… protect… ive…" I couldn't move as I realized Cleon was… was praising Zathrian. Even after what just happened, he just… "Safe… always there…" His hand tightened on Zathrian's robes. "Not yelling… never scary…" His hand shook. "Don't go…" Zathrian was crying even harder now. "Don't go away…" Cleon's voice was unsteady. He… he was going to be okay, right? _Right_?! "Don't change… please… stay like that…" I thought I saw Cleon smile. "Please stay… like you are… don't be… please…" 

"…Ir abelas, da'len," Zathrian murmured, smiling far more warmly than I'd seen. "I… I will have to go away, but I'll be watching over you. With Kieran and Róisín." Who and who? "But I'll… be the person you want me to be, until the end, okay?" Cleon's smile was a bit confused, but he seemed to understand what Zathrian was saying. Certainly, he looked happy. "Here, he'll need support still." He gently passed Cleon over to Morrigan, who clung to him tighter than I would've expected. "Ma serranas." He stood carefully, not even bothering to wipe the tears from his face as he looked to the Lady. "Are you certain of this?" The Lady smiled at him. I thought I saw tears in her eyes too. "The curses end means your death too." 

"…You are my maker, Zathrian," the Lady whispered. She was smiling so gently, so sweetly. "You gave me form and consciousness where none existed." She pressed her hands over… well, over where a heart would be. Did she have one? "I have known pain and love, hope and fear. All the joy that is life." How were pain and fear 'joyful'? It just seemed weigh heavily on us. …Unless… unless she meant it as a way of… appreciating the good with the bad…? "Yet, of all things, I desire nothing more than an end. A rest at the end of a long, beautiful journey." She held her hands out to him. "I beg you, Zathrian. Put an end to me. Show mercy." 

Zathrian laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "I am shamed. I am an old man, alive long past his time, with hatred gnawing at his soul like a twisted, gnarled root. A festering wound I wouldn't let heal." He glanced back at Cleon. "It is often children who show the elders how wrong their paths can be." His smile was wry. "All the more, when you love them dearly." He stepped to the center raised mosaic, and the Lady joined him there. They held still, but something just seemed to sing in the air. I could barely breathe as I stood still, still next to the kneeling Swiftrunner. 

"He's barely moved," Alistair murmured. He had come to my side and, unlike me, his eyes were firmly on Cleon. I almost thought he was trembling, studying Cleon with darkly worried eyes. "Will he really be all right?" 

"Zathrian would not have left his side unless Cleon was as healed as possible," Lady Elspeth reassured firmly, standing at _his_ side. She smiled slightly, hesitantly touching his arm to catch his attention. "Maybe he's simply enjoying cuddling with Morrigan." Alistair snorted softly, shaking his head with a smile. He made no move to remove Lady Elspeth's hand, and so she kept it there. "Though, Morrigan's reaction is interesting." 

"I can't tell if she's more shaken by what happened to Cleon, or by how shaken she is," I added softly. That… was a thought for another time. I was far too frazzled to think properly. "Regardless…" Sten was standing near the werewolves, frowning deeply. Right, someone mentioned he didn't like magic. But that, too, was a thought for another time. Because… "I think… it's starting?" 

Indeed it was. It was strangely beautiful, watching the gold and crimson magic wrap around Zathrian, the trees rustling in anticipation, as burst from him. It swirled and danced, like ribbons in the air… no, like flags, flapping proudly in the wind. 

I almost gasped when Zathrian suddenly collapsed, but then realized. He was dead. But the magic was still there, and it wrapped around the Lady, churning into a bright, golden light. For a second, I thought I saw fear in her eyes. But even that seemed to make her smile. As the light grew even brighter, she looked at all the werewolves, and all of us. In her smile, I thought I heard the words, 'thank you', and 'I will watch over you, no matter what'. And, with that smile, she disappeared in a pulse of flower petals, the trees practically singing at her return to them. As the petals danced in the air, the werewolves glowed and shrank one by one. 

By the time the light faded, there were no werewolves. Only humans wearing clothes I had never seen before, some with tattoos I was certain had lost its meanings in the distant past, others with scars they likely no longer remembered the cause. 

"It's over…" I glanced down and saw 'Swiftrunner', now a man with olive skin not unlike Cleon's. I assumed it was him, at least. His hair… was the same color as Swiftrunner's fur. "She's gone, and we are human." Carefully, he rose, marveling at his clawless hands. "I can… scarcely believe it." 

"What will you do now?" I asked softly. The air… was light and cheerful. Two deaths, but… but I had a feeling both were celebrating their long-deserved rest. "Leave the forest?" 

"Yes." Swiftrunner nodded. "Find other humans. See what's out there." Well, what we had right now was a Blight. "It'll be interesting." He bowed, some formal bow I'd never seen before. "We will never forget you, though." 

"Careful of the darkspawn." I waved as they ran. I noted with a small smile that the ones who had lost limbs were being carried by their fellows. No one left behind. How… wonderful. 

…Wait, we just… saved them, didn't we? It wasn't without deaths, of course, but at the same time… we saved the werewolves. We saved the Dalish Clan too. For once… for _once_ , we saved _something_. 

Yes, I could see why the Lady had named 'pain' and 'fear' among the joys of life. The sheer elation I felt at realizing that… that we'd done something _right_ after a string of losses or feelings of pointlessness… it surpassed anything. I felt like I could take on the Maker himself, and win. 

"Aiden?" Blinking slowly, I focused on Lady Elspeth, who stood in front of me. "Sten and Alistair are taking down the barricade," she informed me. A quick look around proved they were, indeed, down one of the small hallways. "We decided against using one of my bombs, to lessen the risk of the ruins toppling on us and to give Cleon more time to rest." I… had forgotten she knew how to make… I needed help keeping track of what everyone could do. "There is also a side room here, with books?" She fiddled with her hands and I couldn't help but smile a little. "I will be there. I believe Morrigan is going to continue holding Cleon." She pointed to the two, and I realized with a smile that Cleon was sitting up on his own. Good… good, he'd be all right. 

I waved to let her know it was okay, and watched her dart off before focusing my attention on Morrigan and Cleon. And frowned, noticing Morrigan's wide-eyed stare and shaking hands. "Cleon?" I called, walking over to them. To my surprise, he didn't react at all. That… wasn't really like him. "Cleon?" I knelt by them. Still nothing. "Cleon." I rested my hand on his shoulder and he jolted, twisting and almost falling with force. Morrigan wrapped her arms around him to keep him steady. "Are you that much in your thoughts?" The attempt of a joke fell flat as he continued staring at me with wide, uncomprehending eyes. "Cleon?" Okay, now I was worried. "Cleon, come on. Talk to me." Cleon continued to stare, one shaking hand reaching for his ear. Why would he do… wait. "Cleon, can you hear me?" I reached up to tap the skin right in front of my ear, the 'sign' for 'hearing' at the Denerim Alienage. …Which was probably really stupid since there was no way he'd know that. Um… "Cleon?" I wondered if I should speak slowly, but thought maybe that would just make things worse. "Can you… hear anything?" 

Cleon stared at me for a long, painfully tense moment, before he slowly shook his head. "I can't…" he whispered. His words still sounded flat, and a little slurred. "I can't… hear you at all… lethallin." 

Well... this was going to be interesting. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Yes, from this point forth, Cleon is unable to hear. I chose this for a couple of reasons, after thinking long and hard. I will, of course, do my best with research to write him accurately, but I'm well aware that I will make mistakes, and encourage any suggestions people might have. Pretty sure Bioware has a theme of 'justice versus vengeance' running through this whole series. It's showed up in all three games now. (Also, haha, Morrigan. More attached than she thought~) For those curious about Róisín, that's what Cleon's mother's name is in Saga, since she isn't named (much like how I named Cleon's father 'Kieran'). It's Irish, pronounced 'Ro-sheen' according to my Irish friend, and means 'little rose'. I thought it pretty. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Freeing the Tower with Nuada 


	48. Chapter 43) Arrogance

Chapter 43) Arrogance 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_"So, mages go to a special school?" I asked, summarizing Aldous's lecture. The way he'd hesitated told me it was far more complicated than that. But I smiled like I hadn't caught on. It was easier to play the fool. I'd learned that already. "Can I go outside?"_

_"No, Lord Nuada." Aldous's hand fell on my head, ruffling my hair. "You're still recovering…" I tensed at the reminder. The poison burning down my throat… the way she'd laughed as she'd braided my hair and hovered her knives over me… sitting and waiting as I slowly suffocated… "How about an adventure story?"_

_"Okay." I made myself smile. It was better to be a fool and deny it happened. It… really was…_

* * *

I really shouldn't have been surprised the people around us were dead, but I sighed anyway. They looked like they were sleeping. Though, I suppose they did die in their sleep, trapped in the Fade. That… was something I should think of another time. I still felt queasy after that whole thing, and not just because I, as someone _very_ lacking in magical talent, shouldn't have been able to explore the Fade as I had. 

I flinched when I glanced over at Wynne as she gave Leliana and Layla check ups. I should also be there. It would be smart. But the memory of… of the Crow-Nurse woman echoed too deeply in my head. It was better to just avoid it for now. 

As I stood up, I accidentally jarred one of the corpses, a scroll rolling out of their hand. I snatched it up before it hit one of the blood puddles, opening it up a little out of curiosity. It looked like Tevene, for some strange reason, and it seemed to have been written by someone named 'Adralla'. I rolled it back up and stuck it in my pack. It would be a shame for it to get damaged. Besides, maybe I could borrow it for Elspeth to read. She'd _adore_ it. 

Checking to see Wynne was still busy, I wandered into the next room, blinking slowly at the strange cone of light that stretched all the way to the ceiling. Through it, I could see the door high above my head, and the winding staircase that led to it. 

But at the bottom of the cone, trapped within, was a young man kneeling, head bowed, whispering parts of the Chant. He was… alive? Someone survived up here? Though, judging by all the lovely ripped up and contorted bodies, I'd hazard a guess he really wished he hadn't. 

"Hey there," I called gently. The boy jerked his head up, staring at me with wide, almost wild eyes. Yeah, he wasn't exactly grateful being the sole survivor. 

"…More tricks…" he growled. It cut off at the end, choking on a sob. "I will not falter. I will _not_ let you win, demon!" 

"If this were a more tense confrontation, I might've taken that as a compliment." Carefully, I approached, keeping an eye on the boy. I tapped the light, marveling at how it was as solid as a dwarven-made fortress and the way it rippled out like smooth water. This was actually very fascinating. "What is it?" 

"It operates under the same principles as barriers and the Arcane spell 'Crushing Prison'." He rattled that off fast, though, sadly, I had no idea what he was really talking about. "Demons should know that." 

"Luckily, I'm not one." I briefly debated trying to see if the thing fell, but decided that would be _very_ stupid. If it could fall so easily, the boy would be out. "My name is Nuada." So, instead, I sat in front of him, hoping the 'equal ground' would help calm him. "Nuada Cousland, from Highever." 

"…Cullen." The boy slowly sat down too, glaring at me warily. I couldn't blame him. "Cullen Rutherford." The name 'Cullen' was familiar. I wanted to say Alistair mentioned him. Was this the same one? "I'm originally from Hoennleth." 

"I know that village." I smiled, hoping it eased him. He _did_ relax slightly. "There's this giant statue in the middle of the town square, right?" 

"Yeah, we used to decorate it for festivals." He relaxed a little more. "I'd hide my caramel stashes near there, to keep them from my siblings." 

"You've siblings?" A sound caught my ear, and I twisted to check it when he tensed. "It looks to be the door creaking." I faced him again, doing my best to appear reassuring and calm. "So, you have siblings?" 

"Yes, three." He smiled hesitantly. It looked a bit broken, but it was at last a smile. "Mia is the eldest of us, and I have two younger siblings, Branson and Rosalie." He hesitated before asking, "do you have siblings?" 

"I do, an older brother and a younger twin sister." I smiled, thinking of them, and _not_ on how Fergus was dead in the Wilds. "We drive each other insane, but we love each other dearly. Though, sometimes, the competitions could get fierce." I grinned, unable to help it. "Fergus never forgave me the first time I beat him in a sparring match." 

"That's like Mia." He was still tense, but there was a bit of eagerness in his tone. Perhaps he was slowly believing I was no hallucination? "The look on her face when I finally won a chess game against her…" 

"You play?" He nodded slowly, and my grin widened at a sudden idea. "Pawn to D4." 

His expression blanked before he got what I was doing, and then he grinned too, face lighting up. "Pawn to D6." 

"Pawn to D4." I settled into the game, made a bit harder by imagining the board too. But, honestly, that was fine. Chess was a wonderful game for helping you relax, and not a lot of people played against me anymore. 

"Knight to F6." Something about his own smirk made me think it had been a while since someone had challenged him too. 

"Knight to C3." 

"Pawn to G6." 

And so the 'game' went. Slowly but surely, I forgot I was in the Tower at all, surrounded by blood and corpses. I felt like I was in Denerim Castle, playing chess against someone Loghain recommended, determined to win just like I normally did. It was _fun_. I hadn't had fun in a long while, or so it felt, and Cullen was _good_ at chess. I hadn't had a challenge in years, and here I was, feeling the familiar rush as we went back and forth on who was ahead and who wasn't. 

"Nuada?" Both Cullen and I yelped at my name, and it took me a few moments to realize it was Leliana who'd spoken. "What are you doing?" she asked, staring at me like I was insane. From where she stood, I doubted she could see Cullen, especially with me sitting in front of him. "Are you… playing chess with yourself?" 

"That's counterproductive and completely not fun," I deadpanned. I shifted a little so she could see Cullen, who looked just as disoriented as I'd felt a few seconds ago. "No, we're in the middle of a very fun, very good game that you just interrupted." 

"I'm sorry. I had no idea the environment was so conductive to such intense matters." I stuck my tongue at her childishly and she smiled. "So, there is a survivor up here? Who is-?" 

"Cullen?!" And that was Layla. She pushed past Leliana and bolted for the shield. I moved out of her way, so she could better face him. Cullen, for his part, looked like someone punched him in the stomach. "Cullen…" she breathed, crouching down. He still just stared at her. "I'm sorry. It's Layla." 

"…Was it all really a demon after all?" he mumbled. Shaking his head, he placed his hands over his ears, slumping slightly to become a lesser target. "No, no, I won't give in. I will not. I know you demons, tempting me with ill-advised infatuations…!" I didn't think this was something any of us should be hearing. Certainly, Layla's eyes were very wide. "Stop! Please…" His voice cracked. "Please, just stop! Kill me now!" 

"The poor child…" Wynne decided to join us in the room at last, and her eyes narrowed in concern as she looked at Cullen. "He's absolutely exhausted, among other things." She frowned as the studied the cage he was in. "I can guess the principles on which this was made, but I don't think I can break it. Not without putting his life at far greater risk." I honestly didn't think he cared. "I'm going up to check the door." Hmm? "It'll lead to the Harrowing Chamber. If they are anywhere…" So, we'd finally be able to learn if we _could_ save the Circle or not. "I'll yell down when I'm done making sure it's not trapped." Leliana and I both nodded, and we lingered in the back as Wynne left, and Layla tried desperately to reason with Cullen. 

"And here I'd thought I had helped a little," I sighed, leaning against the wall. Feeling something snag my hair, I reached up to undo my ponytail, finger-combing out the tangles. I needed a hairbrush or something. "Maybe I should've stayed quiet." 

"Oh, I don't know," Leliana began. She was studying the two. "You both looked rather like excited little boys before… well…" She shrugged. "Physically, he actually seems all right, relatively speaking." This was true. He had no injuries that could be seen. "I'd guess some dehydration and some hunger, so it'll probably take him a bit to recover on both fronts." She spoke as if it was something she'd experienced, so I patted her on the shoulder. She smiled at me. "But I guess the demons wanted to break his mind first, before his body." Yeah… 

"Is it so surprising I would come back?" Both of us winced at Layla's desperate question. "This was my home!" she shouted, looking like she was about to cry. 

"As it was mine!" Cullen snapped back. I closed my eyes to not see the furious pain in his expression. "And look what they've done to it!" His voice cracked with a half-smothered sob. "They all deserve to die!" I heard Leliana muffle a gasp next to me. "Just like they killed the others! All broken and bleeding and twisted!" That sob wasn't even hidden. "To think I used to believe we were too hard on you all!" 

"Not all of us are like that!" That didn't matter, though. The possibility existed for all of them, even if logic dictated some wouldn't. It was… just like elves being wary of humans, really. …Had I acted like that? I couldn't tell, but I should make an effort to try not to from now on. …I should also ask Aiden about whether or not my family overstepped bounds, harming the elves in the name of 'kindness'. 

"Only mages have that power! Only mages are susceptible to the whisperings of demons!" As horrible as the thought was, I was a little glad he was trapped in that light cage. While he probably wasn't violent by nature… well, sometimes people didn't think rationally when in pain. Clearly, the demons had a lot of fun shattering him into pieces. It would take him years to… no, 'recover' was the wrong word. Maybe 'accept' would be better? I mean; I was still traumatized by that healer, and it had been over ten years. It was… wrong to just _expect_ someone to 'recover' from a trauma, especially in a short time. 

"Is it all right if I interrupt?" I called, pushing myself off the wall and opening my eyes. Layla, still crouching, looked like someone stabbed her with a knife and twisted it for good measure. "I don't think this conversation is going to be good for either of you, if you'll forgive me for being a busybody." I pulled my hair back into the ponytail and Leliana carefully walked past me to help Layla up. "Just focus on me for now, Cullen." I smiled, and saw him relax ever so slightly. That I wasn't a mage was probably earning me brownie points. "Wynne is up there, checking the door." I pointed for good measure, and saw her fiddling with something on the frame. " _Is_ that where the others are?" 

"Y-yes…" Cullen whispered. He refused to look at Layla, and stood so he and I could be at eye level. "Though, I wouldn't expect to find anything good. The sounds come there…" He shuddered, hugging himself. "Maker…" Oh, seriously? It wasn't enough that he had to deal with a demon rummaging through his head and all his friends dying? He _had_ to also hear Maker knows what from a place he couldn't even see? Maker, why did you hate the kid so much? 

"Then we had better hurry," Leliana murmured. She had a supporting arm wrapped around Layla's shoulders. "They must be in grave danger." 

"You can't save them!" Cullen slammed a fist against the wall, and it flashed like a lightning bolt in a storm. "You don't know what they've become!" He started to shake. He… okay, he really needed a hug, and for someone to get him away from this Tower, if not Fereldan entirely. "They've been surrounded by blood mages, with wicked fingers that snake into your mind, twist your thoughts!" 

"But… but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try," Layla whispered. She looked so very hurt, trembling slightly, but there was a firmness to her posture, even if she half-leaned on Leliana. "Even if we cannot save everyone, that is not an excuse to not try and save someone, yes?" That was… simultaneously one of the wisest and most naïve things I had ever heard. I couldn't say I hated it, though. "Let us…" See whether the Tower can be saved. 

"Yeah, let's go," I murmured. Layla smiled at me, still looking like she was going to cry. "I'll take rear." After all, we had no way of knowing if we'd met the demon that did this to Cullen. "Wynne, we're heading up!" 

"Are you really saving anyone by taking a risk?" Cullen growled. I lingered on the staircase as Leliana and Layla went up, not once looking back even as they passed Wynne. "You're just ensuring that they'll win!" 

"Child, killing innocents because they might be malificarum is not justice." I gave Wynne the most incredulous look. "I know you are angry," she continued, not noticing me at all. "However-" 

"Um… Wynne?" I whispered. She glanced at me. "I don't think that's actually going to help him right now?" I knew I was right, based on the glare he sent up. "So long as he doesn't turn into a rampaging serial killer, let him have the anger." 

She sighed, and I thought for a brief second she was going to dismiss me. "Anger is part of the grieving stages, and it is quite healthy." I nodded. "What I am hoping, though, is that he'll remember the words when everything starts to scar." If that was the case, then it _probably_ could've been worded better. "I'll be heading up." 

"Yeah, go catch up." Wynne went through the door and I looked back down to Cullen. "Hold on just a bit longer, okay?" He looked really small from up here. How old was he anyway? I wanted to say he was my age, or even a little younger. "However this ends, it'll end soon." I made myself smile. "And when it is, we're continuing that game." 

I thought I saw him nod as I walked through the door, shutting it behind me. But that could've just been wishful thinking. 

* * *

Okay, going from talking to traumatized torture victim to watching someone _be_ tortured was just all sorts of wrong. 

"…I know that mage," I murmured, peering around the corner. I'd insisted on us laying low until we had an idea of what was going on. Wynne and I were on one side of the doorway, Leliana and Layla on the other. "He's the one who participated in the strategy meeting at Ostagar." 

"Uldred has a good head for strategy, especially when utilizing magic," Wynne murmured. Well, that explained that, and probably also gave some insight in how he slaughtered the Circle in such a short time. "He's skill with Entropy magic, as well as Creation." She grimaced a little. "Truth be told, he is more skilled at the Creation spells than I am, and I teach it." Oh? "He's rubbish at elemental magic, though, only managing the weaker fireballs, so that might help us." 

"Why is that?" Leliana whispered. I continued to watch Uldred torture the mage, itching to intervene, but well aware that doing so would just end in a _lot_ of death, none of it Uldred's. "And why tell us?" 

"Abominations will often take the abilities of the possessed mage." Oh. Well, that's something that was never written in the books. "So, be careful of your senses. He will likely try to trick you with illusions, among other things." Oh, that was lovely. How were you supposed to defend against that? "But with few exceptions, there shouldn't be a lot of magic slinging." Yay? 

"There is Irving," Layla gasped, covering her mouth to muffle it. She pointed to the group of bound mages in the back. "He is the one in green there." It didn't take long to find him, truth be told. He settled himself purposely in front of the others in a feeble attempt to protect them, just as a leader should. He… also looked a lot like Aldous. That… huh. I wasn't sure how much I liked that. "W-wait, what is he doing to Godwin?" 

I brought my attention back to Uldred and gawked as he poured magic into the mage he had been torturing. Slowly, the mage's body spasmed, twisted and contorted, some parts bloating and others shrinking. When the magic cleared, all you had was a monster than barely resembled the person it had been. 

"He's turning them into abominations," Wynne hissed. _That_ was an abomination? If that was the case, I could see why they were called that. That process was _horrific_. "Quickly, before he does that to the others." Right. 

The four of us nodded in agreement and walked into the room. Leliana and I had our weapons out, ready for anything, while Wynne and Layla kept themselves tense, hands curled slightly to prep for spells. 

Uldred, however, just looked amused as he turned to see us there. "Ah, look what we have here," he greeted. He smiled amicably, even bowing a little as he shooed the abominations to the side. "Some guests to join in our revels? Oh, and Irving's star pupil, return home from the fighting." He crossed his arms, looking a little put out. "Strange, how are you alive? Did you truly fight your way through my servants?" Unless the whole Fade escapade counted as more than one, we only _encountered_ one of- "Wait, that's right. I killed a lot of them to fuel the fun up here." …Well, that explained that. "Still, I would've thought Sloth would've been enough." He sighed, shrugging and shaking his head. "Ah, well, it's so much better for them to die in the service of their betters than live with the terrible responsibility that is independence." I had _never_ wanted to gut someone so much in my life. 

"What are you doing, Uldred?" Wynne demanded, glaring at him. I really wondered what she thought she'd get out of him. "Destroying the tower, torturing your fellows…!" 

"Ah, Wynne, always ready for a scolding. If only you'd leveled that scolding years ago, when the templars took your baby away." Wynne blanched, flinching away. That was obviously a nerve, and there was no way Uldred didn't know that. "But, you're mistaken. I am simply setting them free!" What. "A mage is but the larval form of something greater." Oh, lovely, he was completely bonkers. "Your Chantry vilifies us, calls us abominations, but it is simply us reaching our full potential!" He gestured at the bound mages, scoffing, "Look at them! Swallowing the black lies, they deny themselves the pleasure of becoming something glorious!" He held his hands out to Layla and Wynne, who were just staring like they couldn't believe what they were hearing. "What about you two? Shall I give you this gift? It would be so much easier if you accepted." 

"I don't know if you're thinking more like an Orlesian, Nevarran, or Antivan," I immediately deadpanned, unable to help it. "I recall the whole 'here, accept this poisoned gift that will cause you great pain' thing in all three places." 

"And did you not endure pain to become strong in weapons?" Uh… "You weren't born with the strength to cleave people in two, yes? You trained for it, ripped your body apart and let it knit itself stronger, and twisted your form to become broader and more muscled." He sighed, shaking his head while I tried to think of a retort. Sadly, one didn't really come. "Some people can be so stubborn. All I'm doing is speeding up the process." 

"I think there is quite a bit of difference between willingly going through training, and being forced into a process through questionable consent!" Leliana snapped, coming up with her own retort. Her grip was tight on her bow and I could see her other hand twitch towards her quiver. "I'm glad so many stood up to a monster like you!" 

"And what good did that do?" Uldred half-sang, giggling like a child. "I still won, yes?" Considering the number of survivors, I wouldn't call it a total victory yet. "Wait!" He suddenly smirked, filled with sickening delight as his tone suddenly become like an indulgent parent. "What do we have here?" He gestured and I felt dread creep down my spine as Irving walked up. Perhaps we were too late? "It's the First Enchanter!" Uldred beckoned Irving a little closer, pointing to a wide-eyed, trembling Layla. "Come and say hello to your old student, Irving. You always did dote on her like she was your daughter." I was going to crack his skull open for doing this to her. "Oh, but don't mind the blood!" He put a hand by his mouth, like whispering a secret. "He's had a rough day." 

"L-layla…" Irving croaked, standing so stiffly, like a puppet dangling from strings. "St-stop him…" Oh? What was this? "He… is building an army…" Maybe it _wasn't_ too late. "He will… destroy the templars and…" 

"Oh, Irving, you sly little fox!" Uldred sounded _way_ too happy there. "Telling on me like that, for shame!" He gestured and Irving went flying back, collapsing to the ground. "And here I thought he was starting to turn!" He sighed, hand on his cheek very much like an exasperated mother. "Well, no matter, he'll serve me eventually. As will you all." I could honestly say I would cut off my own head before that happened. "Oh, the plans I have…!" 

"Never!" Layla snapped, finally speaking. Her eyes burned in fury, and for the first time, she actually had a scary glare on her face. "I will set myself aflame first!" 

"As if I'm giving you a choice!" Uldred laughed. It echoed harshly through the room. "Your raw potential, with the strength of a demon… it would be unstoppable!" He laughed again, pleased beyond measure. "Yes, that's what I've decided! That is what will be!" Wow, and here I thought I'd never meet someone who could rival Vaughan in arrogance. "Fight, if you will. It'll just make the victory all the _sweeter_." 

At the first flash of the light, I lunged forward, sliding under Uldred as he warped into _some_ giant purple creature with far too many eyes and spikes. A claw crashed into my shield as I got my feet under me, grunting from the force as it pushed me back a bit, my heels brushing against the bound mages. 

"Try to keep as behind me as possible," I told them as an arrow thudded into Uldred's neck. It was almost comical how tiny it looked. "I'll protect you." To emphasize my words, I unhooked my pack and let it fall to the ground. "Please do so quickly, because-" I grunted again as my shield caught a fireball, grimacing as sparks splashed on my face. I had no idea if it was as 'weak' as Wynne claimed it should be, but fire hurt. 

"Angle your… shield downward…" I glanced back to see Irving had crawled to sit right behind me, pushing the others farther back. "That's what… the templars do…" he told me. I nodded and did as he asked, grinning when the next fireball _didn't_ spark over my face. "Who are…?" 

"I'm a friend of Layla's." A glyph locked Uldred down temporarily and a blast of green magic crashed into Uldred's face. "We'll do proper introductions later, First Enchanter." I shifted to intercept a blast of magic and knocked my pack over. "Ah, I'm sorry for the mess." 

"It's… fi…" I glanced back at his sudden gasp, very confused as he groped for the scroll I'd picked up earlier. "The Litany… of Adralla…!" Um… "This is… ah, so many miracles…" I was so lost. I was also not quite liking how 'Uldred' seemed to shrug off attacks, and the abominations were starting to join the fight. Okay, think… think… 

"Leliana, focus on the eyes!" I yelled. There weren't many living creatures that liked injuries anywhere _near_ the eyes. What was…? "Layla, if you can remember what you did outside the Vault at Highever, do that!" I just hoped they could hear me. I couldn't see them around Uldred's bulk. "Wynne, if you know ways to restore stamina as well as healing, focus on that!" Ah, I didn't have a clue what any of them could really do. That was incredibly stupid of me. Next chance I got, I was making an extensive list of everyone's abilities and talents! "If you or Layla also know a way to strengthen attacks, add that in!" This strategy was far too general, but I was dealing with three intelligent people, so hopefully, it would be fine? 

"Child, get this to one…" I automatically reached down as Irving handed me something. I stared when I realized it was the scroll. "The Litany… protects against… blood magic…" he explained. I could only stare in utter shock. "And… and weakens demons…" You mean I just happened to pick up… Wow, who knew that looting corpses could be beneficial? "Use it yourself or…" Yeah, no, something told me this would be better in the hands of someone good at projecting and not thinking twenty things at once, so… 

"Leliana, change in plans! Come over here!" Seeing an abomination coming towards me, I shifted and snapped my leg out, slamming my heel into its neck. Down it went, writhing, so I assumed I collapsed a windpipe, like I would've in a human. "Layla, if you can't remember-!" I was immediately cut off by two glyphs appearing on the ground and suddenly exploding, sending the abominations crashing into the walls, spasming as they fell. "Never mind, clearly, you have it under control." I thought I heard her laugh. 

"You needed me here?" Leliana asked as she ran to me. She looked very frustrated, likely because of how ineffective the arrows were. "What is it?" 

"Here," I said, passing the scroll to her. "Read this aloud. If it works as it should, it'll weaken our oh-so-lovely friend there, and mess up any attempts of using blood magic." Her eyes lit up and she snatched it from me. "Make sure you're secure." She nodded and ran off, keeping one-eye on Uldred. The abominations were a non-issue so long as the paralysis held, assuming they didn't go unconscious, or die, from cracking their heads against the wall, so we just had to deal with Uldred himself. 

I grit my teeth as he shrugged off a fireball and another bit of green magic blasting him in the face. I really hoped that Litany worked, or we were going to be in a _lot_ of trouble. Maybe the smarter thing to do would be to set up a distraction, gather the mages, and run down to the first floor where the other templars and mages were. This might be an 'overwhelm with numbers' scenario, but would any of them be able to move fast enough? Though, considering Uldred's current size, it _might_ be hard for him to get through doors? 

So caught up in my thoughts, I almost dodged the claw heading my way, remembering at the last second that I couldn't. I had the mages behind me. More importantly, I had _Irving_ behind me, the one person Greagoir would listen to. So, instead, I watched how the claw was swinging, set my shield up accordingly, and tried to think ahead, wondering how long it would take for Leliana to read out the Litany. 

I gaped when the claw suddenly changed positions, though, far too fast for simple movement. What the…? Oh. Oh, this was what Wynne meant, wasn't it? The claw I had been blocking must've just been an illusion. The _real_ claw was… already through my guard because I'd placed my shield in the wrong spot and now it was too late because I'd been arrogant and didn't pay attention. 

Well, this was going to hurt. 

"NUADA!" I really had no idea who shrieked my name as the claw bit into my armor and sliced straight up the right side of my torso and face, directly over my eye. And, honestly, I couldn't bring myself to try and figure it out as the far right side of the room disappeared for blackness, and electricity crackled over my armor, searing portions of my skin. 

I bloodied my lip to keep from screaming, and it was only anger that kept me upright as I slammed my sword into Uldred's arm and twisted, slicing the claw clean off. Uldred screeched, rattling my hearing, but stumbled back, _away_ from Irving and the other mages. That was all that mattered. I could deal with anything, so long as the people I protected stayed safe. Now, if Leliana could just… 

I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard Leliana's voice ring out. I was too dizzy and pained to actually make out the words, but the effect on Uldred was immediate. He roared in pain and fury, white light crackling over his body, looking almost like chains. That would be good. 

Feeling myself teeter, I dropped my sword and tugged off my shield, throwing it as hard as I could with unsteady legs and shaking arms. It hit lower than I would've liked, but it _did_ catch him in the chest with enough force to send him back farther. Good, good. Now, plan… I had to think… tch, focus, Nuada. It was just a bit of pain, and it was just your eye. This shouldn't be enough…! 

"Wynne, try to bind him up!" I shouted. Weaponless, I pressed a hand over my eye, wincing as the rest of my body reminded me it was injured too. It was just my torso. It was just my face. It was just my eye. I wouldn't falter. I was a Cousland, and I would _not_ let a little pain defeat me! "Layla, pick an offensive spell and use it!" I stumbled and shaking hands steadied me from behind. That must've been Irving. "Leliana, coordinate with her!" Oh, this was a lot of blood. "Do it quickly, before the effects of the Litany fade!" Did it fade? I actually had no idea. 

"Uldred!" That… that was Layla. I had never heard her voice so filled with fury. "You…!" A spark of light shone on the other side of the room and the air instantly grew colder. "DROWN IN YOUR ARROGANCE!" Pale blue light whipped through the air, wrapping around Uldred. He screeched and writhed, trying to escape, but the light just gripped all the tighter and then froze, turning him to ice one limb at a time. 

He roared in fury, conjuring fireballs, illusions, even something I thought might've been healing magic to escape, but it was all in vain. The ice clawed up to the tips of his horns, freezing him solid. As he started to fall, three arrows flew, punching into the ice and creating a small, small crack. 

With that weakpoint created, Uldred shattered into pieces as soon as he hit the ground. Gone. Dead. I thought so, at least? 

"Yay, he's dead," I deadpanned. I made myself take a step, the world blurring. "Is everyone all…" Oh, the world wasn't just blurring. It was also tilting and… and all the weight on the knee wasn't very good for the joint, especially since I seemed to keep falling and… 

"Nuada!" Someone caught me. A blur that resembled long red hair made me think it was Layla. "Nuada!" Let's see… rapid breathing, sweating, too weak to stand… oh, I was probably going into shock, huh? It had been a while since that happened. "H-hang on!" She managed to shift me up a little. "I'll…" 

"Others?" 

"Wynne has them." Why would she…? Oh, right, she was a healer. How did I forget…? Yeah, shock. I was going into shock. "So, let me… um…" She hesitated, her hand hovering over my face. I tried to think of why, but then remembered. I had refused her healing before, and she now knew _why_. "Please…" And, honestly, I was absolutely terrified, but… 

"Just the eye," I mumbled. Or maybe it was slurred. I wasn't quite focusing properly. I closed my eyes… eye… to minimize how dizzy I felt. I felt faint. Maybe I just should? No, that was the coward's way out. Or something. I couldn't even remember. "Well, and anything else that'll otherwise kill me?" Was I coherent? Wasn't sure. Felt a bit… bit cold and warm at the same time. Weird. "Minimum required, but dying is bad." Father and Mother would never forgive me if I let myself die like this? Well, it was doing duty and protecting, but… 

"Yes, dying is very bad." I flinched at the light near my face, visible even through my eyelids, but held still as it slowly washed over me. "…Oh… y-your eye…" 

Yes, Layla, I was well aware that the injury went over my eye. "Will I live?" 

" _Yes_." Well, that was emphatic. 

"Then it's fine. I'll adapt." 

"All right." The light slowly faded. "There. You are healed enough to not die from the injuries." …I was really grateful she listened. "I did have to work a bit on that stomach wound of yours. It was showing signs of infection." That was… fine. That was fine. "I also will want to check on the injuries, since they can worsen easily, but I promise to just bandage them unless they need something else." That… 

"I can deal with that." I opened my eyes, and turned my head a little more to better look at her. Yeah, I had no sight in the right eye. "Well, who would've thought Loghain's insistence on me learning how to fight ambidextrously would prove useful?" I still sighed, though. "I have a lot of practice ahead of me to get comfortable with that." She made some noise of confusion, so I added dryly, "Layla, I might be an idiot sometimes, but I'm pretty sure you don't want sharp pointy stick in your blindside's hand." Her expression blanked before she smiled sheepishly. "Anyway…" 

"Thank you." Hmm? "You protected Irving, and got injured for it." Her voice was soft, and she smiled a bit shyly. "So, thank you." 

"I chose to protect Irving, and it was my own arrogance at not completely heeding Wynne's warning that got me the inju-" 

"Can you not just accept a word of thanks with a smile?" she huffed. I smiled wryly. "You are impossible." Yes, yes. 

Realizing I was still leaning against her, I thought about straightening, but… well, we did just save a bunch of… oh, Maker, we just _saved_ the Tower. We actually did it. After… after Highever and Ostagar and Lothering, we finally… 

I slumped, resting my head on Layla's shoulder, just too relieved to try and maintain the normal mask. "I'm sorry," I whispered when she squeaked in surprise. "I just need a few seconds." 

"…Take all the time you want," she murmured back. I thought I felt her hand stroke my head. It felt nice. "I should really start tying my hair back, huh? It never seems to obey a ponytail, though." 

"Go for a braid, like Elspeth." She was really warm. I felt almost sleepy as I closed my eyes again. "I'll do it for you, when we're out of here." 

"Thank you." 

"What's that famous line?" I heard Leliana murmur. She must've walked up. "It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye?" I mimed a blow at where I thought she was and she laughed. "Not bad. Little high." Oh, so she was shorter than I thought when sitting. "Wynne has given Irving a clean bill of health." Good. "The others seem to be well too." She giggled. "We won." That we did. That we did. 

"…Oh, Maker, you're right…" Layla breathed. Her breath hitched and I felt a tear hit my face. "We saved the Tower!" I shifted to get up, only to find a small hand pressing my shoulder back into her. "No, you idiot, you need to rest!" I smiled slightly and shifted to be a bit more comfortable. "You took a really bad injury, and then you were stupidly stubborn about it!" Yes, yes. "Give me back the heart attack!" How was I supposed to do that? 

"Aw, Nuada, you're smiling~" Leliana was having fun. "Do you like being scolded?" 

"We succeeded, all three of us are alive, and I'm resting on a very pretty girl's shoulder," I retorted without missing a beat. Layla squeaked, and I could _feel_ her blush. "Why wouldn't I be smiling?" 

"Nuada!" Layla snapped. But if she had a reply, it was drowned out by Leliana's laugh, laughter Layla and I soon joined in. 

Things would be interesting without an eye, but if that was the price for saving this place… it was more than worth it. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Yes, I did that to Nuada. Fights up close, never fought a demon before, it made sense for him to take a bad injury. (Yes, I am aware of how much pain Nuada should, and was, in. Nuada is just very, very stubborn, and messed up in the head.) Adralla was from Tevinter before fleeing to Fereldan. I know it was also used during Asunder, but I don't have my copy to actually check how it was used precisely, so we're just going with this interpretation? Ahaha? Cullen is shown to greatly enjoy, and be very _good_ , at chess, and I remembered my notes mentioning Nuada liking it, so that part basically wrote itself. The moves listed are the first few moves from 'Kasparov's Immortal' game, or so the site I looked it up said. Also, much as I love Wynne, I have to admit her words to Cullen were more than a little patronizing? Like, I get what she's saying, a lot, but it's probably not something you should be saying to someone who is VERY traumatized. I almost left it out, but then realized it was probably a good idea to show this flaw of hers. Godwin _isn't_ the mage being tortured in game, but I'd wanted a name for Layla to say, and his sidequest isn't one I'll be doing, so… 
> 
> Next Chapter – End of the Dalish Quest with Cleon 


	49. Chapter 44) Silence

Chapter 44) Silence 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_I watched Zaphikel tense, wondering what was wrong. "Zaphikel?"_

_"What do you hear, Cleon?" he asked me. I thought it was a weird question. The answer was obviously him. "Nothing, yes?" No, not nothing. I heard him. "No birds, no deer." Oh, well, that was right. I only heard him. "Come on." I yelped as he seized my arm, dragging me after him. "Move your feet, Cleon. When the forest falls silent, the Clan is in danger."_

_"Okay?" I didn't get it. I didn't get it at all, then._

_But I got it later, after Zaphikel got the Clan to move to higher ground, and I watched a flood carve through the trees, triggered by the sudden melting of winter ice. I definitely got it then._

* * *

Silence. Silence, silence, silence. I couldn't relax. Everything was silent. Something was wrong. It had to be. But, really, it wasn't. Not really. I just… I just couldn't hear. I was just deaf. Nothing was _wrong_ with me. I just… I just lost a sense. That was it. That was it. 

And if one more of the Clan treated me like fragile, cracked glass, I was going to punch something. I wasn't broken. I was hurt. I was different. But I wasn't broken. I didn't need the pitying looks sent my way. I didn't need the winces, the whispers behind the hands I could no longer hear. I wasn't broken. I was not-! 

Waving caught my attention, shattering the cycle of thoughts dragging me down. I blinked slowly, focusing on Lanaya as her hand returned to her side. Since I couldn't hear her voice, I found myself focused a lot on how she looked. The bags under her eyes hinted she hadn't slept well. The messiness of her hair made me think she hadn't brushed her hair this morning, just drew it back. Ink stains on her hands showed how she'd been working through the night. A slight trembling in her fingers, and how thin and wan her face appeared, made me wonder when she had last ate. No matter how falsely confident her smile was, she was _not_ holding up well under the sudden stress of becoming Keeper, and mourning Zathrian. 

It reinforced my decision to keep the vial with the ghost in my pack. I would give it to her later, along with the Keepers of whatever other Clans helped us. But, for now, she had too much to deal with. Deciding who was trustworthy enough to learn this was unnecessary stress. 

She tapped her paper, catching my attention again as it wandered, and I looked down to read the words she'd written. _'As Keeper, I swear that our Clan will assist the Wardens as soon as we have tended to our injuries_.' I smiled at that. It was nice to have it declared so firmly. _'We will also send hunters to Clans that are nearby. I am not certain if Sabrae is close enough, though.'_ Right, Marethari had been moving the Clan north. _'Will you all be staying for the service?'_

I tapped that last sentence, waiting until she looked me in the eye before nodding. She smiled, eyes softening. I had a feeling I'd be reading some poems she'd write to deal with her grief before the end of the night. I also had a feeling we'd be exchanging stories. 

Carefully, she took the paper and wrote out her next words. I marveled at her penmanship, smiling at how even and gentle the lines were. Not many Dalish knew how to write because our culture was oral, but Lanaya _very_ much enjoyed writing poetry, and had learned from her parents prior to joining the Clan. _'I will double-check the aravels, then. Will you be all right?'_ I tapped the last sentence again, waited for her to look at me, and nodded again. She nodded back before clapping her hands. 

I made a face as the puff of air tickled my nose, but stood back to watch as she riffled through papers and books. Finally, though she produced two folded pieces of paper and handed them to me. Both had my name scrawled. I recognized one as Zathrian's handwriting, but I didn't know the other writing at all. What was this? 

A hand touched mine and I looked up to see Lanaya holding up her paper again, sentences written. _'Zathrian instructed me to open up a chest if he did not return.'_ The paper shook slightly, so I reached out to steady it, and her hands. _'There were letters inside. There is also one for Lyna.'_ Ah, okay. _'I don't know who the other one is from. But Lyna's seems to have been written by the same person.'_ All right. _'I wanted to give them to you before I forgot.'_ I caught her eye and nodded, hoping it showed my understanding. Her smile said it did. 

I pointed to a tree not far away, hand automatically forming the signal for 'I will be there'. Though I was certain she didn't know it, she seemed to catch my meaning, and nodded, walking the other way to go tend to something. As she left, I flopped down at the roots of the tree, breathing out a sigh as I rested my head against the rough, cool bark and closed my eyes. 

Tiring. It was tiring communicating. But I'd just… I'd just have to deal. Just like the silence that made me tense, constantly check the area. Though, now that I thought about it, being so visually alert also wasn't doing me favors. But, I'd adapt to it too. I had to. It wasn't like I'd magically regain my hearing. Considering my injuries, by all rights, I really ought to be _dead_. Varathorn, after studying the armor Morrigan found for me, concluded it had dampened the spell's affects enough for my body to react to the healing magic, something in the forging. He'd been fascinated by it, but… well, the armor was mine. He promised to study it after the Blight, when my life wouldn't be quite so dependant on good armor. 

For now, though, I had letters to read. 

Opening my eyes, I decided to read the one from Zathrian first. _'If you're reading this, Cleon, then it means I've got to Falon'din's side at long last.'_ At long last, huh? Zathrian, you hadn't enjoyed immortality. _'You just left with your group. Friends? Maybe 'friends' is the better term. It's such an odd group, but you somehow fit in with them.'_ Not sure how to take that. _'And I feel like I'll be saying 'dareth shiral' soon, so I'm writing down all my thoughts, for once, since I doubt I'll be able to say all of them, if any.'_ Not that it would've mattered if he had. I had only caught the barest hint of what he _had_ said to me then, concentrating on reading his lips. 'Away' and 'watching'. 'Until the end'. I should ask someone what all he'd said then. _'Did you know you and your father have the same eye color as my son?'_ I… wait, what? Really? What had been the chances of that? _'I remember when I first saw Kieran with those eyes. He was in his teens, just staring, and it had felt like a punch to the head, especially since my son had never made it to adolescence.'_ Ah. I hadn't known his son had been that young. How old had his daughter been? Had there been a great age difference or…? _'After talking to him, though, it became easy to differentiate him. Kieran had a… I don't know what to call it. A light, a hope. You just wanted to follow him, knowing he'd open the gates to paradise. You have the same presence.'_ I did? _'When he died, I was… it hurt greatly. It had been a long time since I'd even let myself become close to another. You become very distant when you're as old as I am, fearful of the inevitable pain. Maybe it was a blessing our ancestors lost it. Who is to say?'_ Who indeed… it wasn't like there were ancient elves about. _'However, just as I was falling into despair, a little da'len caught my attention. A da'len with Kieran's face and eyes.'_ Oh, when he walked up to me that day. _'You stared at me with the same eyes, and stated your desires clearly. You're probably not aware, but you spoke with such pride. A pride I hadn't seen in Dalish in a long while.'_ Yeah, I… definitely didn't know that. _'Even back then, you were content. Everyone else felt the burden of the lost legacy, of longing for a homeland. But you? You were content in the forest, content with this life.'_ He'd seen that, huh? Even though I'd tried to hide it. _'Moreover, you had pride in us. The Dalish as they were, even the city elves. You always got into so much trouble, going out of your way to protect them on the roads.'_ Yep. I stood by those decisions. _'It was such a joy, watching you grow up. You grew more serious, burdened by expectations, but that pride remained constant. I'm sure it'll serve you well as a Warden. You truly are, after all, the pride of the Sabrae clan, and mine as well.'_ Zathrian… _'Mythal will watch over you, and I know you and your friends will be victorious during this Blight. Never lose your hope. You led an old, old elf out of despair and gave him joy unrivaled. You will do the same for many, many others, just by being who you are.'_

The letter ended with simply his name, but I smiled at it. He talked a bit around things, but I could read between the lines. He'd loved me dearly. That was an unchanging fact, no matter how things had been at the end. I could take some comfort in it. 

I set it to the side, and picked up the other letter, frowning at it. Who was it from? Who else would write me a letter? Carefully, I opened it up, looking for the signature. When I saw it, though, I froze and dropped the letter, pressing my back deep into the bark as it fluttered down. 'Mamae'. The signature had been 'your mamae'. This was from… but why would she… why would Zathrian…? She wasn't from this Clan! She was from a completely different one! What was… I didn't… 

I stared at the paper, eyeing it as warily as one would a viper. My hands trembled when I reached out, and I snatched them back before I could touch it. I… I couldn't… 

Okay, no. No, I could. I could read it. And, if I did, then I'd have ammunition when my resolve faltered in the wake of the silence. Right? Right. 

Taking a deep breath, I shakily picked up the letter and unfolded it again, smoothing it out to buy me a bit more time. _'I'm sure you're quite surprised to read something from me, Cleon.'_ Wow, she hadn't known me for more than a day, and she still predicted my reactions. Good job, or something. _'And I won't blame you if you decide to burn this without reading.'_ That was an idea. Too bad I'd already made a choice and I was stubborn. _'Then again, maybe you'll read out of sheer stubbornness. You have to be at least a little stubborn. You're my child.'_ …Okay, I was honestly a bit creeped out that she predicted that. _'In the event you are reading this, though, then please let me start with words you should hear. I'm sorry.'_ The two words felt like ice water dripping down my back. _'I'm sure you're angry at me. I'm angry at me. As I'm writing this, you and Lyna are curled up together in your cradle, right next to me. You're both so incredibly lovely and wonderful. And… ah, there you are, smiling at me again. You've given me lots of smiles. And here I am, about to give you a life of insecurities. But, honestly, I'm scared.'_ Of what? What had she been so scared of that she-? _'I'm broken, Cleon. I can't inflict that on you two. You're both young and bright. Me? I can barely go a moment without bursting into tears. I'm listless, useless. The strong arms I used to be proud of can't even hold my daggers. I, the supposed strongest hunter of the Dalish, had needed Ashalle's help to even hold you. If I can't support you now, when your only needs are food and love, how can I support you as you grow older, and you need helpful shoulders and reassuring hugs?'_ …Mother… _'Paivel says I'll recover in time, and grow strong again, but I just can't see it, Cleon. Besides, I was the one who got your father killed. What if I make another mistake and it kills you two?"_ But it had been…! _'Ah, right, I should probably tell you about how your father died. I hear the rumors the others are generating, and they're not right. They keep saying it was an ambush, but, if anything, Kieran and I were the ambushers.'_ What? _'We were going to my Clan. Kieran planned on telling my Keeper directly, and then we'd both go to the Sabrae and live happily together, with or without my Clan's consent. We defied them before, and we'd gladly do it again. I hope you got a slightly more reasonable streak in you. Not sure from where. Maybe Ashalle or Paivel will teach it.'_ Not sure on that one, Mother. I keenly remembered how Tamlen died because I hadn't stayed firm on reason. _'We ran into a group of humans and elves, and they were so scared. I couldn't blame them, of course. They were lost in the woods, and here came two Dalish out of nowhere, one a mage and the other wearing sharp daggers on her belt. I tried to diffuse the situation and stepped forward too soon. I'd scared them, and so they'd fired arrows. With not enough time to make a barrier, Kieran shielded me with his own body. You know the story from there.'_ Yeah, I did. _'If only I had not been so impatient, and made sure they were calm. Or maybe even a little more patient in sharing the joyous news with Kieran. Then he'd be alive, and you and Lyna would've had two whole, happy parents, instead of a corpse and someone as good as dead.'_ Mamae… _'Ah, this is so long and rambling. And I don't know how to end it. Tell you how much I love you? It's completely and unconditionally, but I've little doubts the words ring hollow, when the only proof is this letter, and the daggers I'm leaving with it.'_ Daggers? _'Not sure if either of you will take it up, but I'll leave them, just in case. They served me well. They'll serve you the same, I'm sure.'_ But Lanaya hadn't handed me… ah, well, guess I was going hunting then. Though that reminded me. Aiden had a dagger, or at least used to. Did he still have it? If he did, I should teach him. And then there was Elspeth with that sword from Ostagar. She'd left it here when we went into the woods, but she should learn how to use it too. _'I suppose I'll end this with your name. 'Cleon'. I'm sure you're a little curious why I picked it.'_ Well… _'It comes from an old word for 'glory'. Kieran thought of it as we walked that day. Chatted about how it was the name of some hero in a tale. I can't really remember now, sadly, but it involved an elf and the Imperium, and Andraste too. Maybe that'll be enough for you to find it.'_ I suppose. I definitely was curious now. _'I picked it, though, because I want you to find your glory. Your own glory, not that which the Clans insist you should want. Make your own path, my dearest son. What strength I had, I know you inherited, and you have Kieran's strength too. No matter what happens, I know you will be well. And, if you can believe my words, know that I love you. I love you so very dearly, and it is because of that I leave. And I will watch over you from Falon'din's side, taking delight in everything with Kieran.'_

Then the letter ended with 'your mamae', the words I read first. I stared at the paper, uncertain on how to feel. I still felt bitter. I still was mad. But she… acknowledged that. Made it okay. She had loved me, and it was because of that she had felt it was the best choice to leave. I disagreed with that, still. I still thought I would've preferred having her here. But, I couldn't blame her, for faltering when everything hurt. For not having faith in herself. And she'd left this letter, to give me the answers I'd longed for. 

And with the answers, it felt like a healing wound. A scar, but one that wouldn't ache. That was… a powerful gift. A very, very powerful one. And she'd made sure of it. I could be happy with that. 

A small vibration startled me, and I looked up to see Morrigan near. I tilted my head in confusion and she jumped. Had that been what it was? Regardless, I smiled and waved her closer, noticing the paper she had clutched to her chest. 

She sat down next to me and passed me it, a pen in hand for her to write. She leaned into my side as I smoothed out the paper to make it easier to read; I didn't mind, since she was quite warm. _'The moron-'_ I stopped there, and pointed to it, giving her a look. She huffed and crossed it out to write 'Alistair'. _'Alistair, Sten, and Aiden are hashing out what signs they know for them to teach all of us.'_ I gave her a questioning look, so she quickly scrawled, _'Alistair knows a sign language used by templars. Sten, the qunari. Aiden, something used in his Alienage. Sadly, Elspeth and I can't help with that, but she is with them, already learning.'_ Aaahhh. Nodding, I returned to the rest of her note. _'Once they're done, we shall have a sign language for communication when paper is scarce. It shall be a messy hybrid, but it should work.'_ I smiled, feeling myself relax. They were going to help me. They wouldn't leave me to flounder alone. I still had to get used to the silence, but they would adapt with me. 

She tapped the bottom of the paper, so I looked down to what she wrote there. _'Are you all right?'_ I had no idea how to answer that. I wasn't broken, but I was frazzled. I was certain of myself, but I was grieving. I was bitter about my mamae, but also soothed. Honestly, no small part of me was resentful I had to adapt, but I had resolved to do so. 

She seemed to notice, however, how I was having difficulty answering, so she carefully wrote out, _'Will you be all right?'_ I pointed to that one, made sure to catch her eye, and nodded. She smiled back. A warm, bright smile that lit up her face, made her eyes sparkle, not of her superior haughtiness in sight. It was… incredibly beautiful, actually, and I found myself dazzled, focusing on how her eyes narrowed, how the left side of her mouth quirked up higher than the right. 

The wind blew, a leaf brushing my cheek, and I looked up to see the leaves rustling in the breeze, like they were shaking in laughter. Was it the Lady? I thought so. She had returned to the forest, after all, and I couldn't imagine her just disappearing after living so long. 

I smiled, feeling the sun warming my face, content against the tree. I would be all right. I could learn how to relax in the silence. I might stumble, but… well… 

I glanced down and saw Aiden approaching, waving his arms to make sure I saw him. Elspeth was behind him, a skip in her step despite her limp. They both waved to Morrigan as they approached and held out their hands to me at the same time. I took them without hesitation, letting them pull me up. 

As I steadied my footing, Alistair popped out from behind the others, handing me another piece of paper. _'We managed to get something that will hold, we think. Lots of redundancies, of course, particularly for the nastier words, like blood, kill, slaughter them all, ritual dismemberment on Tuesdays…'_ I grinned at that, finding it hilarious. _'But we will work on that. There are some words we don't have signs for, but maybe one of the others knows a sign language that has them.'_ Ah, okay. 

I handed it back to him, and smiled warmly. Alistair grinned back, slinging an arm around my shoulder. As I staggered playfully under the weight, Elspeth waved to catch my attention, and pointed down the way. I could see Sten there, watching us from the distance. Seeing me look, he pointed back farther, and I narrowed my eyes until I spotted what they both must've been referring to. The Clan was gathering for the service. 

I took a step forward and the others came with me, and I let myself relax even more, knowing that they would prevent anything from sneaking up on me. Instead, I could focus entirely on… well, not the song. But, perhaps the singers? The emotions on their faces, the way the fire flickered. Or something. I didn't know. 

But I did know this. If there was only one thing I had been blessed with during this whole mess, starting from when Tamlen and I first entered that damn ruin, it was that I had to go through it with this ragtag bunch of misfits. And, honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: Sign language has many, many different forms depending on country or even community (dialects). It's really quite fascinating, and I will be trying to show that. Overall, though, this is just a chapter to wrap up the quest, and for Cleon to start moving forward again (and to show how the group is becoming close). 
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Leliana. 


	50. Interlude - Orlesian Bard

Interlude – Orlesian Bard 

* * *

"This way, this way," she murmurs, carefully herding the children. They are antsy, afraid even now, but they follow her easily, clinging to her hands when she reaches out to them. Mages or not, they are just like every other child in Thedas. Easily frightened and in need of the protection only adults can provide. 

She glances back, eyes finding Nuada quickly. After all, he makes sure to keep his blindside to a wall, ensuring no one sneaks up on him. For all his jokes, she's seen him grimace as he bumps into things, miss when he reaches out to grab something. He'll adapt, of course. And she's already figured out he'll do it silently, without telling a soul. He had been that way in Orlais, and it seems returning to Fereldan had only aggravated his issues, not healed. 

She shakes her head, and glances to Layla. She's at his side, babbling to both him, and Irving, who Nuada carries on his back. She doesn't miss how her eyes flick over to the young templar, Cullen, though. She doesn't miss the slight, longing pain in her gaze, or the flinching, self-hating pain in his when he looks at her. In love with each other, though they must have never said a word. And now, of course, there is no way for it to blossom. Both are too damaged, changed. It almost makes her sad, the romantic in her wanting to encourage them anyway, but she knows it would just be a horrible mess. Besides, it's not as if she doesn't notice the light in Layla's eyes when she talks to Nuada. Where old love dies, new ones blossom. Perhaps Cullen will experience that too, when the wounds fade to scars. 

She realizes her thoughts and chuckles to herself. Once, not as long ago as she would like, she would have been using that information to slide into their confidences, to seduce and beguile as she stole away important information. As a Bard, under Marjolaine, she hadn't done a lot of 'saving'. Sure, she, Tug, and Sketch had their fun, but they often ruined people's lives or reputation. That had been the name of the Game. 

Except, now it's not. Now, she's fallen into an adventure, like those in the stories she used to devour as a child, those she told with bright voice and brighter eyes. Truly, that vision must have been from the Maker. She had been certain when she'd seen the beautiful white rose blooming on the dead bush, but this merely reinforces it. Even if it made her an outcast in Lothering, it had led her here, in a place where she can finally do some good, with even better, more wonderful people. 

She wonders, though, if she should retrain herself in her old arts. What Marjolaine taught her, shaped her to be… perhaps that could do some good here, too, with them. 

Something thuds, and she brings herself out of her thoughts, watching the mages pound on the locked doors. And, as the echoes fade, Irving uses what little strength he has left to lift himself a little higher on Nuada's shoulders and call, "Greagoir, open the doors. We're tired." 

There is barely even a second before they hear the 'thunk' of a bar being removed and the doors fly open, gentle sunlight streaming in from the windows. There, in the center, is the Knight-Commander from before. She swears she sees tears of relief in his eyes as he steps forward. "Took your time, Irving," he growls out, tone wobbling at the force of his smile. "Took your damn time." 

And then everything is chaotic. She watches everyone smile, see them all crying. She hears them cheering, praising the Maker for his miracle. And she smiles, even more certain talking to Aiden that day had been the correct decision. 

Maker bless the Wardens, her friends. They are doing His work, and saving the world so beloved by His Bride, Andraste. And she will help. However she can. So that there could be more smiles like this, more celebrations like this, when the Blight ends and the dust settles at last. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And here is our favorite bard. Since Leliana's companion quest will be done MUCH later in the story, I'm slowly having her 'hardening' on her own, as a result of wanting to help. (Much like how she hardens her outlook in order to assist Justinia). I also wanted to show her being quite observational, since I'm certain it was important for her job, though we all know Leliana has flaws (out of practice and consistently shown to become quite naïve and gullible when dealing with people she loves). 
> 
> Next Chapter – End of the Circle Quest with Layla 


	51. Chapter 45) Razbliuto

Chapter 45) Razbliuto 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"New templar today." "I've heard he's a cutie~" "Yeah, he's supposed to be a bit of a prodigy? I mean… he made it through training in like five years." "Greagoir seems to like him. I've heard he's actually training him to be Knight-Captain, managing troops and the like."_

_I slipped through the crowded hallways, barely paying attention to the gossip. It was interesting, of course, but I was on an errand for Irving. I had to get that done first, especially since Irving had promised to teach me the glyph for neutralization when I-_

_I turned a corner for a common shortcut and crashed into someone with a squeak. Papers went flying as I hit the ground, and I yelped at them, scrambling to pick them up. "Oh, I am so sorry!"_

_"No, I should've been paying attention, and not reading." …I did not know that voice. When I looked at the speaker, I did not recognize his face either. He was someone wearing the 'casual' clothes for templars on breaks, and he had a very beautiful smile. "I was trying to memorize the map," he explained sheepishly. Absently, I handed him the papers I had picked up, and he held out a hand to help me stand. I took it. "Um…" His face was flushed, but he was still smiling. "I'm Cullen. Cullen Rutherford. I was just assigned here." So, this was the new templar… he was very handsome._

_"My name is Layla. Layla Amell." I made sure to smile at him. I wanted to make a good impression. "I am an apprentice here, studying under Irving." …Ah! "R-right, I was in the middle of trying to find where they moved the alchemy cupboard!"_

_"I think it is next to the first floor library, in that side-room… alcove… thing…"_

_"Truly?" I clapped my hands in delight. "Then I shall check there." I bowed to him. "Thank you so much! I hope to see you later!"_

_I raced off, glancing back a couple of time to see him staring after me. I giggled, feeling a touch giddy. I could not wait to tell the others._

* * *

There was fear under the cheer. Certainly, everyone was happy over how many survived. Certainly, everyone was relieved the Right had been called off. But you could see the wariness in the smiling eyes, hear the tension in their laughs. Everyone's eyes darted towards the surviving mages, and their thoughts were practically tangible. 'Are they like them?' 'Are they just like the ones who did this?' 

Part of me wanted to snap, but how could I? This was why mages were feared. After seeing the aftermath, I could understand it, much better than I did before. And, though I was saddened by the fear, most of me felt rather distant from it. Even though, by all rights, I _should_ be among them, or the dead, I felt like it was something that did not affect me. It was a tragedy that made me sad, even sadder because I knew the people involved, but that I could step away from. Was it because it was simply another nightmare to be added, or had I just changed? 

"No magic!" The hiss jolted me back into the present, and I looked down to the templar I was treating. Leliana's singing had calmed most of the patients, and kept the children safely out of the way, but it did nothing to make them trust me. "N-no… no magic…!" It did nothing to make them less afraid of me, of my magic. "No!" They struggled to sit up, and I quickly tried to push them back down, eyes darting down to their rotten smelling, pus seeping wound. I _had_ to use magic. But…. 

"…I will not do more than necessary," I whispered, holding their gaze, thinking of how Nuada was also afraid. A healer… should also tend to a person's trauma, right? Right. "But if I do not use healing magic, you will die and it will be painful." They hesitated before nodding, laying back down. I smiled at them and held my hands over the injury. "I am casting the spell now, if you would like to close your eyes." They did and I let the magic wash over them. I fought my impulse to heal them completely. That might help their body, but their mind would be shaken. That would not be right. "There." The injury was still there, an angry line of blisters and messy scabs, but it was no longer infected. "Make sure someone looks and cleans it." 

"…Thank you…" I looked to them, and was startled by their relieved smile. "Truly, thank you." I knew it was because I kept my word, because I had used the bare minimum. So, I smiled back, glad I had not gone with that impulse. 

"You should also make sure to talk to someone about the trauma." I stood, letting another templar come to actually do the bandaging. "But you will be fine." 

I stepped away, trying to catch my breath. It was hard, though, with the air heavy with blood, death, and the smell of far too many disinfectants and poultices. Shaking my head, I got myself near a wall, away from the crowd, and glanced around. Leliana was still in her corner with the children. Knight-Commander Greagoir, Irving, and Wynne were discussing something in the center of the room. And Nuada was… ah, he just returned from the room, another body in his arms. 

When we had all returned, Nuada had volunteered immediately to lead a small group of less injured templars to start carrying corpses down, for identification and burning. It was perhaps the first time I had seen someone get Knight-Commander Greagoir's respect so fast. That said, you really had to respect someone who went into a nightmare, and was willing to go again. That was what Wardens did, wasn't it? I would gain the courage to do so myself. 

But today, I was going to let myself stay away. Nuada was carrying the body of a child, and I did not want to look anymore. I knew the child, after all. I had given her sweets to calm her the day before my Harrowing. 

I carefully slipped down one of the halls, one of the ones _not_ covered in far too much blood. How many people died, to cause so much splatter? There was not all that much blood in the body. You had more water in a tub, far more. Oh, my poor home… 

I noticed a door open, and stepped into the room, noting it was one of the storage rooms, housing some of the rarer books out of reach of curious apprentices. Often, it was empty, but today it was not. Today, Cullen was at one of the tables, reading over something. 

He noticed me immediately, tense and alert, a hand falling for a sword he did not wear. He froze, however, when he _realized_ it was me, and I lingered in the doorway, unable to think of what to say. After all, one of the ways the demon had tried to break him was _my_ image, or so I took from his words before. I knew it was no fault of mine, or any fault of his, but it was awkward to know it. 

I thought about confessing to him. I thought, perhaps, it might make him feel better, knowing he was not the only one to hold such feelings, not the only one who knew just how bad of an idea it was. But… but it felt like a lie. No, it _was_ a lie. Staring at him, studying his worn and pained face, I realized something I had not even considered. I did not love him as that anymore, not to the degree I had. Everything I had seen had suffocated it, and I was too different. _He_ was too different, too angry. No, instead, I felt… I wanted him to be happy. I wanted him to heal, move forward. I was fond of him. But it was… not a love anymore. It was not a romantic love. 

So, instead, I gave him my best smile, clasping my hands behind my back. He stared at me, flinching a little. It was like he was looking at the sun, when he had wanted the moon. "I will be leaving soon," I murmured anyway, holding his gaze. He simply nodded, still far too tense. "So, goodbye, Cullen." I could say it this time, at least. "I hope, when we next meet, we can be friends again." 

I did not wait for a reply. Likely, he did not have one. I turned away, and left him alone to his book, steps firm, head held high. 

Goodbye, my first love. I hope you find your place in the world. 

* * *

When I returned to the room, I jumped back into healing, listening to the patients and compromising between their needs and wants. It kept my hands busy and my mind focused as more bodies were carried down. Leliana kept singing to calm everyone, even though her voice was almost drowned out by the sobs of mourners as it slowly became clear who would actually survive and who would not. 

It could have been so much worse. That very idea kept me firm. It could have been worse. We saved the Tower from the worst. I very much believed that. 

"Goodness, how much you've grown." Blinking slowly, I looked up from trying to push someone's intestines back inside their abdomen where it belonged to see Wynne hovering over me. "I almost didn't recognize you, scurrying about," she continued warmly, crouching down next to me to help out. "You've grown much stronger since I saw you at Ostagar." 

"I do not feel it," I murmured. Between the two of us, we got the organs where they needed to go, and healed the patient up. I breathed a sigh of relief as the magic took. This one, at least, did not bleed out under my fingers. "If anything, Wynne, I feel weaker." 

"Unfortunately, a part of growing up is becoming quite aware of your limitations." She kissed my temple, pressed her cheek to mine affectionately as she gave me a one-armed hug. "But, trust me. You are much stronger. When you were at Ostagar, you would not have been able to stay calm enough to heal so many." …She was right. I probably would have saved only half, at best. "And you take into account how the templars might be afraid, and reassure them their fears are not silly while still saving their lives." That was… that was simply because of how much trouble I had with Nuada, how much I no doubt put him through… "I'm proud of you." I smiled at that, feeling myself relax. "But come, it's time to talk to Irving and Greagoir." 

"The patients?" I would not mention the bodies Nuada and his group carried. 

"Those that still require healing do not need magic for it." Oh. "And all the bodies that can be safely carried down have been." Ah. "So…" She stood, giving me her hands. I took them, becoming self-conscious of how messy I was. I was covered in blood and sweat, my clothes and hair sticking awkwardly, my skin itching from the drying patches. "How about a quick wash?" Oh! "And a change of clothes. I think I might have an old robe in storage that'll fit, if you can forgive how outdated it is." 

"Wynne, I just want clean clothes." I paused before sheepishly adding, "Th-though, I also would not mind if it is pretty." 

"I thought so." Wynne chuckled, eyes dancing even as I sulked at her, and tugged me gently down another hallway. I followed her closely, glancing around. So, this was where mages stored their old things. I had never been down this hallway before; I had no reason to go. "In here." She gently nudged me inside a room, and I noted there was already a bath set up. "You three needed one. Nuada and Leliana are in different rooms while Greagoir has some templars check over all of your armor." Oooohhh. "I think he's also giving Nuada a change of clothes from the templar stores. I know Leliana is getting some from the Chantry stores." That made sense. "You soak. I'll find you those clothes." 

She left me alone and I wasted no time stripping down and sinking into the wonderfully warm water. I sighed with a smile, relaxing slowly as I made sure to run some through my crusted, knotted hair. After this bath, after I was a bit cleaner, I would move forward again. Garahel, or at the least the spirit who took his appearance… his words echoed in my head. 'You're fine. You're doing fine.' and 'Take a breath and leap. You're more than capable of flying.'… those words were comforting. I would take courage from them, and give that courage to the others when they faltered. That was my vow, here and now. 

I had just soaked all the blood off, starting to prune, when Wynne returned. Smiling, she passed me a towel to dry off, and some clean underwear to change into. After I did so, I focused on trying to get most of the water out of my hair as Wynne helped me dress. 

The first thing I noticed about it, though, was how it left the shoulders bare. The dark blue gown was held up solely because of the bronze corset Wynne helped me snap on, its sleeves only going up to my armpits and trailing loosely down my arms. Slits up the sides of the skirt made it easy to move in. Wynne hooked two belts around me, one settling on my hips, the ornamental discs hiding compartments to hide balms and poultices. The other was long and thin, something you could easily hook a pack on… or a sword. What had Neria suggested long ago? Well, it was not so long ago, but I believe she mentioned a knife? I should… I should learn weapons. But what would I learn? I would have to think on it. 

She handed me knee-high boots made of soft leather and as I tugged them on, she slid a headband on me, pushing my curls out of my face. "There," she murmured. I wondered how I looked. "I wouldn't call it the most battle-worthy, but I think it'll be a bit easier to work with it and armor." That could be true. It _felt_ more durable than my normal robes. "I put some others like it in your pack. The robes you had in there were… well, they were stained beyond repair." That did not surprise me. "Also, you have a fire rod?" Ah! 

"That is a story…" I mumbled, fiddling with my fingers. I had forgotten about it, again. "But I would like to keep it." Who knew where it could be useful again? "Is that all right?" 

"Certainly." She smiled warmly, beaming at me. Though, if I did not know better, I would have thought she looked a little ready to cry. "Come on. Let's go meet the others." 

"Okay, Wynne." I paused before adding, "and thank you. For everything." 

"Always, my dear. Always." 

* * *

"What's this? Has a goddess of beauty decided to walk among us mere mortals?" I burst into laughter at Nuada's over the top greeting, unable to help it. It echoed off the walls, drawing attention, but I found myself not caring. "I think with all the trouble we get into, we'll need to get you some chainmail or something to put underneath it," he continued lightly. It did not escape my notice that, despite his smile and cheer, he twitched at each person coming from his right, even though he had that side protected by leaning against a pillar. "But it suits you." 

"Oh, perhaps a good set of bronze colored?" Leliana murmured excitedly, clapping her hands in delight and bouncing on her toes. "It will go well, I think!" My laughter faded into a smile, my spirits high as I moved to stand between them, careful to keep myself on Nuada's left so he would not be so nervous. Wynne stood a bit to the side, in the space between us, and Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir. 

"All here, then?" Knight-Commander Greagoir asked gruffly. Still, we nodded, confirming that we were ready for whatever discussion was taking place. "I suppose the first thing we need to say to you three is 'thank you'." Those were words I never quite expected to hear from him. My smile grew at them. "You've saved the Tower, and proven yourself a friend to the Circle, mages and templars alike." 

"The second thing is about the aid you wish," Irving added. He tried to hide how drained and injured he was by standing tall, but I could see him teetering. Knight-Commander Greagoir could too, though, and subtly helped steady him. "After much discussion, the two of us decided both mages and templars will come to the aid of the Wardens." …Eh? "I know the treaty is just for mages, but you did help the templars greatly in this, and quite a few respect you highly now." I… uh… "This goes for all templars stationed in Fereldan. Greagoir will be sending messengers soon." 

"So, we get some of the strongest soldiers in Thedas along with people who can blow things up with their minds?" Nuada asked, smiling a little. Both nodded and his smile grew. "Well, damn, that's incredibly generous of you." 

"No more than what was given to us." Irving smiled, trying to hide a wince. He would need to rest soon. "It will take some time, of course." 

"Please, see to your injuries!" Leliana insisted. Nuada and I both nodded for emphasis. "I don't think we're going to go charging off after Archdemons yet!" No, we had to at least meet the others. 

"I hope the Archdemon remains cooperative in that," Knight-Commander Greagoir muttered. He crossed his arms, scowling. I was honestly glad to see the familiar look. "History tells otherwise." 

"Then it is up to us to make history, and win before it becomes uncooperative," I stated firmly. Both Knight-Commander Greagoir and Irving gave me startled looks, and I flushed under them. "W-what? Um…" I squeaked and ducked behind Leliana. Oh, how embarrassing. 

"Oh, okay, there's the Layla Amell _I_ remember." Knight-Commander, that was just mean! "Maker's breath, I'm feeling old. Wasn't she six-years-old just a blink ago, getting lost in the Tower?" 

"Sadly, the nature of children is to grow and surpass those who raised them." I peeked out from behind Irving, and saw them both smiling. "And what of you, Wynne?" Irving asked, changing the subject. "You're standing there, biting your lip again as you think of how to say something. You should change that habit." 

"Irving, we've known each other since we were teens," Wynne laughed gently, smiling warmly. "You should know it's not changing anytime soon." Still, she straightened, looking Irving in the eye. "I do have a request, though." Irving nodded, though Knight-Commander Greagoir frowned a little, a knowing look in his eye. Did he already know what Wynne wanted? "I would like to be granted leave to follow them." Wait, really?! 

"Wynne…" Though Knight-Commander Gregoir just sighed, Irving looked a little startled. "We need you here, though." Ah, right. Wynne was a powerful healer. "The Circle needs you." 

"I think, considering things, Fereldan might need me more, Irving. Think of how horrible it would be to survive this, and then die by the Blight." Irving made a face and Wynne smiled. "Besides, old friend, the Circle has you. You're not leaving it just yet." 

"That is hardly fair, playing to my pride." 

"It's worked in the past." Wynne giggled and Irving sighed. Knight-Commander Greagoir just watched everything stoically. "I also think they need my assistance." She nodded to me. "Layla will stress herself ill trying to take care of everyone as the only healer in her group." She shrugged. "I also think they will be in need of shoulders to rest on, and advice to give. I do have some wisdom." This was true. "Besides, they're running themselves completely ragged." 

"I see the pointed look," Nuada immediately deadpanned. He playfully scowled at her, shifting to stand a little more properly "Why look at me?" 

"Because you're pretty high up there on the list of 'people who are very scarred and messed up in the head'?" Leliana instantly teased, giggling. 

I burst into another bit of laughter at Nuada's retort. "Hi, kettle. I'm pot. Yes, I'm aware we're both black." Nuada paused before sighing. "That sounds a bit wrong that way." I supposed. Like me, Nuada and Leliana were pale in skin tone, though unlike me, neither seemed to freckle. "You get my meaning. 

"Yes, yes." Leliana was still giggling. "Her point still stands." I nodded for emphasis. "See?" 

"Alack, alay! Fair Layla, why have you forsaken me too?" I laughed again, glad to hear him being dramatic again. It was soothing, after everything we had seen. …Was _that_ why he acted that way? "To be serious, though, we really would welcome Wynne's aid. She's right in that Layla is the only healer, and the only other person who can give substantial advice about the situation is rather… taciturn." Was he talking about Sten? 

"Very well," Irving sighed. He gave Wynne an exasperated look. "Here I thought you had outgrown that adventuring streak." Wynne just chuckled, smiling. "I give leave, but remember to come home again, Wynne." 

"I always do, Irving," Wynne reassured. She bowed a little to him. "Farewell. And, by the Maker, actually get some bedrest." 

"Then we'll be off," Nuada noted, pushing off from the pillar. He looked at Leliana and me, waiting for something. I nodded, thinking he might be checking if I had any unfinished business. I did not. Neria was the only other person I would want to say goodbye too, and she was still unconscious. "Send a message when you're recovered, along with some tactical suggestions based on the training you have." Wait, what? 

"It's nice to see my templars will be directed by someone with training in strategy," Knight-Commander Greagoir sighed, speaking at last. Nuada's face temporarily blanked before reverting to the smile, too quick for anyone to really notice unless they had happened to be watching him right then. "I'm assuming you won't need a templar to sail the boat?" 

"No, I'll have Leliana help me navigate any areas I can't since I've not quite yet adapted to the lack of depth perception." Nuada bowed a little, respectfully. "Farewell." 

The group split up then, the meeting over. However, as I moved to follow Nuada and Leliana, I noticed something I thought strange. Though Irving had already limped off, Knight-Commander Greagoir had caught Wynne by the arm, ducking his head to talk quietly with her. Curious despite myself, I tiptoed closer, wondering what I could overhear. 

"…You once yelled at me, for choosing the Circle over…" I heard her murmur. He flinched, looking away. "I simply… don't want to make that mistake twice. And it was a mistake. I'm proud of what I accomplished, but you were right. There had been another choice, and I should have…" She shook her head. "Regardless…" 

"I shouldn't have yelled." His voice was quiet. "Back then. I shouldn't have. I knew important the Cirlce was to you, and you knew about how important the Templars were to me. I am still mad at… well, I shouldn't have yelled. Maybe we were both too young, back then." 

"Yes, I think so." She smiled gently at him. "Still, the job suits you well. This is a good Circle, unlike the Gallows." He smiled wryly back. "Farewell, Greagoir. As always, I wish you happiness." 

"And I, you. Stay safe, Wynne." And they walked past each other, not looking back once. 

Wynne looked a little startled to see me, but she smiled gently. "Sorry, were you waiting for me?" she asked. I simply nodded, not wanting to tell her what I'd heard. I could ask later, when her smile wasn't so bittersweet. "Let's go, then." 

Nodding again, I walked with her wordlessly, going to meet Nuada and Leliana, already outside. I paused at the doorway, though, and looked back. I studied the walls, the people scrambling about, trying to make the wounded comfortable. This was home, yet it did not feel that way anymore. …No, that was not right. It was still home. I had simply stopped using it as a lifeli… no, a chain. I had stopped using it as a chain. It would always be my home, but I did not _need_ it as I had before. I could keep myself safe, with my friends. 

"Layla?" I turned back and saw Nuada holding out his hand to me. What made me stare was the fact it was his right hand. Perhaps it was simply out of habit of using it the most, but it did mean he was trusting his blindside to me, whether he realized it or not. 

I took his hand without hesitation, gripping it firmly. He squeezed back reassuringly as he led me to the boats, helping me inside. 

When I last left the Tower, I had assumed the day of my Harrowing would be my worst. I knew better, and I knew there were worst days ahead. But, as Nuada pushed the boat off the dock, as Leliana struck up a song, as Wynne helped Nuada navigate… I smiled. I smiled, because I knew, even though things would get worse before they got better, I was not alone. I was with my friends, and would reunite with the others soon. 

Perhaps the Maker was not as cruel as I thought, if He blessed me with them. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Before anyone asks, I did not make up that word. It's Russian (though I've also been told English has co-opted it?), and it means 'sentimental feeling you have for someone you once loved, but no longer do'. I will not tell you how long it took me to hunt down a word I'd wanted (I also am not certain on how to pronounce it), but its referencing both Layla and Wynne here. This chapter is Wynne's recruitment, but more importantly (imo), it's Layla moving forward, much like Cleon in his chapter. Layla's new clothes are based off the mage concept art. (For those wondering about Wynne and Greagoir, World of Thedas, Volume II heavily implies Greagor is Rhys's father.) 
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Loghain and Howe (sorry for two interludes so close together, but this is a cutsence. Because, guess what! We've completed two of the main quests!) 


	52. Interlude - Regent

Interlude – Regent 

* * *

"I bring new, Sire." He sighs, closing his eyes as the hateful voice floods his ears. He has to tolerate Howe. He rules the North. "There are demands from the Bannorn that you step down from regency." No doubt led by Teagan. The idiot. How _dare_ he presume to know anything about the blood shed to protect Fereldan, when he'd spent most of his life in the Free Marches?! "They are gathering their forces, as are your allies." They were all idiots. Had he not saved Fereldan in the past? Why trust him then, if they didn't trust him now? He knows what's best. He always has. "And the reports about the Wardens are confirmed. Some reported them, recognizing them from the bounties." How had they, though? How had anyone survived that? He'd seen that battlefield. Logically, no one there should have survived. That's why he'd called the retreat. Why he'd tried to stop Elspeth. "Though, it seems they've earned the affections of the people, with their defense of Lothering." The town that fell anyway? Madness. "And have secured an alliance with the Circle… and some spies report they've allied with the Dalish too, though that remains unconfirmed." How did _children_ do that? It makes no sense. "However, I've… arranged a solution, with your leave." 

Dreading what he'll see, he turns around anyway. He sees a young elf standing in the room next to Howe, armor marking him as an Antivan. "The Crows send their regards," the elf murmured, nodding his head in greeting. Assassins… not an unreasonable tactic. Not his preferred, but he'd be a fool to reject a strategy just because his honor disagreed with it. 

Still… "Assassins?" he asks slowly, taking his wine glass. He desperately needs a drink, though he wishes he had whiskey or ale or something that wasn't this too thick wine clogging his throat. 

"Against the Wardens, we need the very best," Howe tells him. But he can see the sickening gleam in Howe's eyes. He hates that this man must be his ally, but for Fereldan's sake, he'd do anything. 

He drains his glass, feeling conflicted over it all. For Fereldan… for Maric… for Rowan… "Just get it done." The elf hesitates a bit before nodding, stepping back to bow. "Leave Nuada and Elspeth alone." Howe's face pinches in anger, but he ignores it. He can convinces them that he knows what he's doing. They're rightfully angry, but they're reasonable. And he wants them where the true threat is. And he is not so prideful that he won't admit favoritism. He's lost so much over the years. He doesn't want to lose more. "The rest are fair game." The words burn his tongue, and he wishes he had something more to drink, just to get rid of it. Especially as he remembers Maric's other son, the one he'd had with that elven Warden, who he'd given up in an effort to protect… ah, he'll have the blood of both of his dearest friend's sons on his hands, huh? All the more reason to focus on Fereldan. If he lets the country go, then it will all be for naught. 

The assassin nods again, bowing fully before leaving. Howe follows, whispering in the assassin's ear, and he knows Howe is telling him to ignore his order. But he is the employer, technically, so he's certain the assassin will listen to him over anyone. 

"Father." He relaxes a little when he sees his daughter enter the room as they exit. "What is it that you plan on doing?" she asks him, looking so confused as she approaches. "Should we not be fighting the darkspawn?" Ah, the Wardens affected her with their paranoia too. "Not each other?" 

"The nobility must be brought in line, and then we can take care of the darkspawn safely," he explains. "This isn't a true Blight, Anora. Cailan's vanity demanded it." 

"Be that as it may, we're losing troops!" She sighs heavily and she can see her grind her teeth in frustration. "Oh, why can't Nuada be here? He can counter you with the tactics you like." Nuada is… alive, and angry. He wishes he had trust Elspeth then. But he had thought no one could survive, had thought Nuada dead in the Tower, and had confirmed Howe's rule of Highever for the sake of Fereldan's stability. A mistake, but it's too late to turn back. He'd make it work. It's just a different sort of tactics. "Cailan approached Orlais for-" 

"NEVER!" The very name is enough to make him bristle. "Maric and I fought to throw those bastards out!" Both of them had sacrificed so, so much. Ah, he wishes Maric was here. Jealous as he could be of his best friend, things just made _sense_ with him. 

"We need help!" His anger boils. How?! How could she even think of letting them in?! "We cannot do this alone!" 

"Fereldan will stand on its own, as it has always done." He stands and walks to his daughter, resting his hands on his shoulders. "Trust me." 

"…Did you kill Cailan?" The question makes him freeze, and he tries to think of how to answer, especially as she stares up at him. 

All he can think of, though, is that damn witch's warning to Maric, all those years ago. 'Betrayal after betrayal' or some nonsense… though, he has to admit. Leaving Cailan on the field that day probably was betraying Maric, and it hurts his heart. But the only other option had been to risk Fereldan, the country he and Maric had fought so hard to liberate. The country where Rowan was buried… Would it not have been a greater betrayal to lose Fereldan? 

"Cailan's death was his own doing," he finally whispers, not able to look her in the face. After all, he'd played his part in it. But he had warned Cailan to not fight on the front. Why did that boy always fight him? He knew what was best. 

She stares at him, before stepping away, head bowed. He watches her leave, shaking his head. Even after Cailan hurt her, she still loves him. He cannot blame her for feeling shaken. 

He sighs and watches the fire burn in the fireplace. But not for long. He is Regent. He is the Hero of River Dane. He has a responsibility to protect Fereldan. Whether it wanted to be saved or not! 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Ah, this lovely cutscene. Or, rather, two cutscenes. I tied two of them together. Tried to go a bit into Loghain's thoughts here. 
> 
> Next Chapter – The gang is back together again with Aiden 


	53. Chapter 46) Reunion

Chapter 46) Reunion 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"Aiden, when I retire, I want you to become hahren." The words almost startled me enough to drop the boxes I was carrying, and I stared at Valendrian, certain I misheard._

_"I'm no leader," I mumbled after realizing I hadn't._

_"Not yet, perhaps. But you've the potential." I shook my head. "You'll realize it, when you're older." I highly doubted that. "Box goes on the highest shelf."_

_"Yes, sir." And I hoped we'd never speak of this again._

* * *

"We've a crow watching." Those cryptic words were all Lady Elspeth said as we entered the small village we were supposed to meet the others at. I tried to think of why it was important to know a bird was paying attention to us, but came up blank. Maybe she just wanted to practice the sign language we came up with? We were all slowly learning, after all, and learning the habit of signing as we spoke. It took a couple of tries figuring out that we absolutely _had_ to make sure none of us interrupted the other. Cleon couldn't follow multiple threads of conversation. 

"All right," I murmured, confused, but letting it go. She simply nodded. "All right, everyone." I turned to face the group, carefully signing for Cleon. "We split up into two groups to see if the others are already here." They nodded, and I took a breath, bracing myself for the coming protests. "Cleon, Lady Elspeth, and I will be one group. Sten, Alistair, and Morrigan, you're the other." And Morrigan was the first to open her mouth. "Do you have a problem with my order, Morrigan?" She snapped her jaw shut, sulking a little. "I thought not." I nodded to Sten. "Sorry that you'll have to keep them from arguing." 

"We'll behave," Alistair sighed. It didn't escape me that he glanced at Lady Elspeth, but he just shrugged. "Or, rather, I'll shut up for once and not rise to the bait." 

"Then perhaps the viper in our midst can do the same," Sten murmured. I gave him a slightly confused look, but he simply shook his head, and silently nudged Alistair and Morrigan one way. 

Lady Elspeth, Cleon, and I went in the opposite direction, being careful of people who might recognize us from the wanted posters. We'd been strangely lucky on the way here, but… 

A tap on my shoulder caught my attention and I shifted to see Cleon's hands. 'Why did you split the groups this way?' he signed. 

Unable to help it, I signed back, 'Sad you can't flirt with Morrigan?' He rolled his eyes and lightly hit my arm. 'Or are you sad that you can't watch Alistair and Lady Elspeth be awkward?' 

"I can read that," Lady Elspeth stated. The slight redness to her face and the nervous way she held her hands as she signed her words hinted how embarrassed she was. "You are both quite mean. He's just being nice." Cleon and I exchanged an exasperated look. Yes, he was just being nice. That's why he went out of his way to give her a flower. Every. Day. "I can see you." 

'Observant in everything but awkward, fumbling flirting,' Cleon signed, sighing to ensure his exasperation was clear. 

"We can't all be Morrigan." I choked on a laugh, earning a betrayed look from a coloring Cleon. "When are you going to let her catch you?" Cleon crossed his arms, hiding his hands. A clear declaration of 'no answer'. "Does this mean you don't want to hear what she says? We do gossip a little." I choked on another laugh as Cleon glowered, reaching over to prod her in the forehead. "If you're going to be mean, I'm going to be mean back!" Was it really only a few weeks ago that these two were arguing constantly? …Wait, had it even been a few weeks since Ostagar? It felt like forever, that I'd known the group for eternity. What a strange feeling… "Aiden?" 

"Just trying to think of how long it's been," I murmured, careful to sign my words for Cleon. Both of them looked thoughtful, fingers moving as they mentally counted. "It feels longer than it's been." I hadn't even known them two months ago. Yet, here I was, laughing like we'd been friends since childhood. "Ah, sorry, we should probably be watching the crowd." 

Both nodded and after exchanging smiles of reconciliation, the two started looking at the people we passed. I did the same, noting how everyone's clothes were loose. Hunger was already starting to set in, the darkspawn likely having destroyed farmlands and blocked trading roads. We had to end this quickly. We _had_ to. 

Cleon caught my arm suddenly, and when I turned to look at him, he pointed down the way, to the man chatting with a merchant. I saw the long black hair in a ponytail and called out, "Lord Nuada?" The man turned slightly, frowning a bit before grinning when he caught sight of us. I smiled back, relieved that they were already here. 

I felt my smile falter, though, as he turned to face us fully and walked over. A scar, still a bit pink from being recently healed, ran from about the corner of his mouth to his forehead, directly over his eye. The clouded blue screamed everything. How had he'd lost the eye? Had… had things been troublesome at the Tower? 

"What? Does the additional scar make me more handsome?" Lord Nuada teased, knowing immediately what caused my staring. To give me time to recover, he gently poked Lady Elspeth's cheek, sighing at her look. "Yes, Elspeth, I'm an idiot. You can stop wondering how I got it." I glanced between the two of them and he sighed again. "I didn't heed a warning." And I was trying to figure out what was… ah! Cleon! 

I turned to face Cleon, who was frowning in frustrated confusion, and tapped his shoulder to catch his attention. When he faced me, I carefully signed out the conversation, adding 'they are also being quite strange and communicating with looks.' He nodded, apparently understanding fully, and I fought off the urge to sigh. Lady Elspeth waved as I did so, and signed to us that she would go get the others, leaving only when I nodded and signed, 'Go to the inn'. …Well, tavern, because only the Alienage sign language had anything like that, but hopefully, she knew what meant. 

"Was that sign language?" And Lord Nuada was leaning over my shoulder, watching my hands. Did he mean to make sure I was on his blind side? "When did you learn sign language?" he asked, looking curious. "And why? Is it to make sure we can all be heard while there's a battle?" Uh… actually, that did seem like a good idea, but… 

Cleon reached over and playfully tugged Lord Nuada's ponytail as it fell over his shoulder. When Lord Nuada, equally playful, pouted at him, he covered his ears and shook his head. Would that be enough? Maybe I should actually say- 

"Oh, he lost his hearing?" I automatically translated for Cleon and Cleon nodded. Lord Nuada just smiled wryly. "Well, it seems like neither of the groups got allies without trouble." Lord Nuada shrugged, straightening. "We did secure the mages help, _and_ the templars." The way he said it made me think it was good in a different way than I thought. "Basically, we just got two companies." Uh… I somehow doubted the sign I had for company would fit. And I didn't know another meaning. "That isn't accounting for the Dalish, of course, so perhaps it would be more accurate to say we had three? Depending on numbers, that might actually be the equivalent of a battalion." Uh… 

"Nuada, you are doing it again!" And there was Mistress Layla, huffing as she appeared on his left. Where had she come from?! "What even _is_ a company?" she demanded, hands on her hips. Her hair was expertly braided, pinned up to take the weight off her neck, and I noticed her robes were very different from before. She wore chainmail under it. Where had that come from? And that wasn't the only change in her appearance With how she held her head and shoulders, she appeared confident, sure. Very different from the shaking, traumatized girl I'd said goodbye to not all _that_ long ago. 

"I'm sorry." Lord Nuada smiled sheepishly. Now that I paid attention, he was more relaxed, his smile more real. Was it the lack of armor? …No, he was just… more settled. Less pretending. "A 'company' is a military unit." Perhaps Alistair or Sten had a sign for it then? "They typically consist of about eighty to… ah, I think I saw one in Nevarra with around two-hundred." Maybe just Sten, then. "It's simply an organization thing, to help with military hierarchy and supplies." And I was faltering on what signs to use so that Cleon could keep up. "…Aiden, I know Fereldan military hand signals, if that'll help" Lord Nuada smiled apologetically to Cleon. "Loghain taught Fergus and me." 

"Yes, it would," I sighed. I signed to Cleon 'when we have paper, I will explain it better', and he nodded, scowling. I couldn't blame him for it. 

"Eh? Cleon cannot hear?" Mistress Layla yelped, peering up at Cleon. Cleon simply smiled wanly. "The Circle has a sign language. Wynne knows it really well." Wynne…? Wait, the mage from Ostagar? The one Aneirin wanted us to deliver a message? "She is resting in the inn right now with Leliana." She was _here_? What were the odds of that?! "Will that help?" 

"I don't see why not," I answered, quickly signing Mistress Layla's words before adding the signs for my reply. "It's not like this isn't a hybrid mix anyway." We really needed some paper. "Right, before I forget. As you assumed, Nuada, the Dalish are on board, but they're recovering." 

"That'll be an interesting tale," Lord Nuada grinned. He reached out to clasp my shoulder and missed a little before adjusting. Was his fighting similarly affected? Cleon was still adapting. "By the way, it's good to see you all again. I'm not sure if I said that." 

"…The feeling is mutual." It really was and, as I signed it to Cleon, he nodded for emphasis. "To the inn then, my lord?" 

"Yeah, that sounds good." His eyes, however, flicked to the side. I followed his gaze, but saw nothing unusual. "We've a crow watching." That was the same thing Lady Elspeth said, and it still made no sense. "Oh, before I forget, Wynne is rather motherly, and unintentionally patronizing, so if either bother you, tell her immediately." Ah, yes, that… 

I burst into laughter as Cleon _immediately_ signed, 'We better keep her away from Morrigan.' It took me a bit to recover enough to translate, and even as I did, I wondered why it had made me laugh, made all of us laugh. Maybe… maybe we were just that happy to see each other again. It felt… far too long to be apart. 

* * *

The inn was warm, friendly, far more than I would've expected. More importantly, we were staying free. Because apparently our actions in Lothering did accomplish something: it told the people of Fereldan that _we_ were helping. 

"It's very good to see you two," Wynne laughed, smiling. I just smiled back, still stunned that she'd survived. Especially given what I'd just heard about the Tower! "But what an interesting tale you all had about your travels." Yeah, I had no idea who'd had the weirder story. On the one hand, werewolves. On the other, fighting in the Fade! "Still, you are Neria's cousin." I was _very glad_ to hear she'd survived. "I can see the resemblance." Oh? 

"We did look alike as children," I murmured, smiling softly. I missed those old days. "I can't say I dislike knowing we still look like family." I glanced around the room, checking on everyone. Lady Elspeth and Leliana wer helping the innkeeper clear the plates from the group tea we'd all had. Morrigan and Layla were chatting rather animatedly over something in the corner, Layla's eyes bright with excitement, and Morrigan's smile strangely soft and giddy. Lord Nuada was teasing Alistair over something, or so I assumed by the latter's blush, and Sten wasn't far away, going through signs with Cleon, adding in some of the Fereldan military hand signals Nuada showed us. Ah, right, Layla had said… "There's a Circle sign language?" 

"There is a Kinloch Hold sign language." Ah, right, different Circles would have different sign languages. "I imagine it, at least, has signs for different spells." She chuckled. "I noticed the templar signals, but typically, they just focus on 'spell', moving to block it." Right, Alistair had actually explained that. "I certainly don't mind teaching it. It'll also be fun to learn what you made." You mean the hybrid mess? Maybe she was curious on how it actually _worked_. 

A clap cut through the air and we all turned towards the sound. I was surprised to see it was Cleon. He shook his hands like they stung before snagging Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth by the sleeve to make sure he had _their_ attention. 'What were you two talking about earlier?' he signed, scowling in annoyance. Oh, what happened this time? 'About crows.' Ah, so it had bothered him too. 

However, both Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth frowned, tilting their heads in confusion. "We mean there are crows watching?" Lord Nuada answered, Lady Elspeth signing for him. A glance around showed no one… no, wait, Leliana was biting her lip in though. "What else would we mean?" Why would it be a thing, though? What did birds have anything to do with… wait. Wait, I'd… had this thought before. Something… Something Master Duncan… 

"Pardon me, my lord and lady…" I began slowly. All eyes fell on me. "But… you two aren't talking about _birds,_ are you?" 

"Why would we be talking about birds?" Lord Nuada looked even more confused. 

"Then we've assassins." Maker, seriously, give me patience! 

"Yes? We told you this." NOT IN A WAY WE UNDERSTOOD, DAMN IT! "We figured you were employing the 'wait and see' tactic. It's one we use often." 

The cracking of wood cut off whatever retorts any of us could've _possibly_ have had. I whirled, seeing a group trying to get in. Alistair used a chair to shove them out, though, getting us the room we needed to push them out of the inn, though we were still stuck right at the entrance. Thankfully, most of us were still armed, and there weren't really a lot, but these were supposed to be skilled assassins so… 

Someone was behind me, knives at my neck, but when I whirled, I found them already falling, Cleon's dagger splitting their neck. Blinking slowly, I saw him retreat, back to the wall of the inn, eyes darting around. Well, maybe I didn't need to worry so much about him fighting? And it seemed like everyone else had things under control. Sten was easily deflecting blows, Alistair was guarding the entrance, Leliana was firing arrows, the three mages coordinating spells together… 

"There you are." I brought my greatsword up in time to catch the daggers of the elf attacking me. The thing I most noticed about his was the tattoos on his face. "The Wardens die here." Excuse me? 

"I highly doubt that," I told him coolly. I shoved him off me, taking advantage of my superior strength, and then took advantage of his stumbling to ram my pommel into his temple, knocking him out fairly quickly. "That worked?" I sighed, shaking my head, and slowly turned around, looking for whoever was closest. "Sten?" He came over immediately. "Watch him, please. I'd like to try getting information." He nodded, and I stepped away, checking on everyone. With the exception of the one I'd 'fought', the assassins were dead and everyone was accounted… wait, no, where were Lady Elspeth and Lord Nuada? 

Frowning, I frantically hunted around before I happened to glance to the back. Where they were. Unarmed. Not stained with blood. They… they didn't fight. They seriously, seriously didn't fight. Maker, above, I was going to hit them or yell or…! 

Cleon beat me to it, sliding in front of them and signing rapidly. Between his speed and angle, I couldn't make heads or tails of what he was saying, and Lord Nuada's blank face meant all _he_ knew was that Cleon was angry. 

When Cleon paused, though, Lady Elspeth had her hands up. "We're sorry," she murmured, signing the words as she drooped, eyes downcast. "We didn't think a Crow would be stupid enough to attack in broad daylight, with a frontal assault. They are an assassin, after all." …Now that she mentioned it, it _did_ seem odd. Why would…? "When we recovered, all of you were there and…" 

"And I decided jumping into the fray would only hurt," Lord Nuada continued, talking slowly so Lady Elspeth had time to sign the words for Cleon. I noticed the others slowly relaxing, not quite as annoyed. "I haven't yet adapted to fighting while blind in one eye, and with the chaos, Elspeth couldn't get a clear shot. So, we stayed back, helping the innkeeper get the other patrons to safety, and paying for the damages." I glanced guiltily at the splintered doorframe. "We're sorry. This is all because it didn't even occur to us that you didn't know what we were talking about when we said 'Crow'." 

"To be fair…" I sighed. Sluggishly, I lifted my hands to sign for Cleon too, waiting until he faced me to continue. "I should've asked when Lady Elspeth first mentioned it. You were trying to relay important information, and I should've asked for clarification. The fault lies in both sides." But judging by how tense Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth held themselves, they put it solely on themselves. Nothing I could do about that, except reassure them it wasn't the case. "Regardless, you two know Crows?" They both nodded and I seized Lord Nuada by the arm. "Good. You're helping me question." 

"Interrogation won't work." Still, Lord Nuada followed me without even stumbling. When I glanced back, Lady Elspeth and Cleon were conversing, signing quickly. "It's a Crow thing. You know you bought their silence, along with their skill." He paused. "Or, well, that's how it should work. We're dealing with a very weird Crow." Joy of joys. 

I approached the assassin, noticing him stirring, and nodded to Sten. "We'll take over from here," I told him. He nodded back and stepped away, going to where the others were gathered, whispering together. 

Lord Nuada and I, however, waited quietly until the assassin opened his eyes. "Oh…" he groaned, blinking owlishly. "Mmm… I rather thought I'd wake up dead." The assassin carefully pushed himself up, shaking his head. "Or, rather, not wake up at all, as the case may be." I didn't recognize the accent at all, but the name was 'Antivan' crow, so… "But it appears I'm still alive, yes?" 

"For now," I answered. Probably a better idea to be firm? "That can be rectified." 

"Yes, the lump on my head says that." I didn't hit him _that_ hard. "You are most skilled. So, if I'm not dead, then it means I am alive for a reason." His eyes were focusing on me slowly, voice losing little bits of its grogginess. 

"You're… really nonchalant about this." He only chuckled in response. "So…" 

"Interrogation, yes?" Uh… "Very well. Let's save some time." Huh? "My name is Zevran. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying the Wardens." Um… didn't… didn't Lord Nuada just say…? "Which I failed at. Sadly." 

"If you'd succeeded, you would be missing your head." Was it bad the threat came naturally? Probably. At least I… felt calmer than I did in the estate. 

"Well, yes, but being captured by a target tends to be a tad detrimental to one's assassin career." I felt like I was talking to another Lord Nuada, the one from right after Highever fell. "Regardless, you'll want to know my employer, yes?" Uh… "A rather taciturn fellow. Loghain, I believe?" He tilted his head in thought before nodding. "Yes, that's it. Seemed to like the wine, or at least the alcohol." 

I gave Lord Nuada a look, and he was absolutely _baffled_. "You… are perhaps the worst Crow ever," he murmured. Zevran simply shrugged, smiling wryly. "It's like you've a death wish." Lord Nuada shook his head. "Normally, I'd call bullshit, but his information makes sense. Mostly." 

"Only mostly?" Zevran sighed. "Tsk, tsk." Don't _say_ the sound! "I assure you. I am most truthful." 

"The part I don't get is how Loghain contacted the Crows. He always covered his ears when Father talked about it." 

"Oh, that? That was because someone named Howe did the contacting." Bloody flames. "But regardless, if I might make a suggestion? If you're done interrogating me." I nodded. "So, here's the thing. I failed." Yes. "Meaning my life if forfeit, or should be as far as the Crows are concerned." Okay? "So, since you're the sort that gives them pause, how about I join up with you instead?" …What. "I'd hate to waste the life you so generously saved." I… I… "Besides, I can think of worst things than serving a magnificent sex god." Oh, wait, _what_?! 

"Lord Nuada?" I whispered as I heard the rest of the group gasp and mumble in surprise. "Would you mind if I leave this to you?" 

"Considering the situation, I think its better you _do_ let me," he answered easily. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Clearly, you're not used to Antivans." THEY WERE ALL LIKE THIS?! "Leliana? Can you come here for a minute?" Oh, wait, what? 

Leliana skipped to his side, one eye on Zevran, and the two of them were soon conversing in a flowing, lilting language, Lord Nuada taking an accent that matched Leliana's. Was this Orlesian? Why converse in that? 

"Oh, very clever." I glanced down to see Zevran nodding approvingly. "I only know a smattering of Orlesian," he laughed. "And they're keeping an eye on me to see if I recognize what they're saying." Someone was far too chipper about this whole situation. 

"Aiden, let's take him up on the recruitment," Lord Nuada said, breaking off his conversation with Leliana. I studied his face and he smiled slightly to reassure me. "I can think of a few tactical uses for an assassin." Oh, lovely. Still… 

"All right," I agreed. I heard strangled noises of protests and glanced at the others, who looked confused, aghast, or both. "Is there a problem?" I meant the question genuinely, but they seemed to take it as a threat, as they quickly shook their heads. "All right then?" I had a headache… "Wynne, do you mind checking him over?" 

"Of course not, my dear," she answered immediately, smiling gently at me. "Come along, child." She helped Zevran up. "Let's see about your injuries." 

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be just fine if you let me rest on your bosom," Zevran replied nonchalantly. Wynne's gentle smile instantly dropped for an exasperated frown. "What? You have a magical bosom." I wasn't even going to listen anymore. I wasn't sure if I wanted to gag him or laugh. 

"Aiden?" I turned as Leliana approached. She didn't look me in the face, fiddling with her hands. "Um…" I waited for her to find her words in silence, glancing around to see the others dispersing. "Well…" Finally, she took a breath to steel her nerves and looked up at me. "Do you know what it means to be a bard in Orlais?" she asked. Since the question came up, I had to assume it didn't mean 'storyteller', so I shook my head. "It means 'spy'." …Wha…? "Bards are spies, assassins. Like the Crows, their skills are sold to the highest bidder. It is a… horrible life. I once thought it fun." Let me get this straight. In this group, we had five wardens of varying colorful backgrounds, a noblewoman, a witch of the wilds, a qunari who slaughtered a family, and, now, _two_ assassins? Wow, the Maker had the greatest sense of humor. "I know now it's not. It's a nightmare that swallows you whole, where you create nothing of worth." Her hands shook, even as she clasped them in front of her. "But I still remember the training. Nuada and I agreed that a good way to use them would be to watch Zevran for signs of betrayal." …Oh, that's what… "So, please, don't worry." She smiled reassuringly. "I may be rusty, but I can take him. At least, long enough to get the warning." 

"I see," I murmured. Well, this was all a revelation, but… well, she was still the same kind, if slightly odd, woman I met, so… "Thank you." I smiled at her, only to become confused as she stared, flushing pink. "Are you all right?" 

"I'm fine!" Her voice was squeaky. And was she even pinker now? "I'll… um… just go ahead and get started!" And she bolted, leaving me confused. 

What in bloody flames was that?! 

* * *

While Wynne and Leliana tended to Zevran, I asked Sten and Alistair to check the area and make sure we didn't have any more attackers waiting in ambush. Lady Elspeth had requested Morrigan's help in making something with a far too complex name for me to pronounce, but had made Morrigan grin wickedly. Meaning I was currently fearing what it was as I relaxed in Nuada's room in the inn with him, Mistress Layla, and Cleon. 

"So, much as I like relaxing, there _is_ pertinent information that needs to be shared," Lord Nuada began. He sighed, rolling his shoulders as he straightened, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He'd insisted on Cleon and I sitting on the bed, while Mistress Layla had the only chair. "Aiden, if you're going to punch something, aim for the pillow. It needs fluffing anyway." I had no idea to react to that as I signed out everything for Cleon. "Howe is Arl of Denerim." All my thoughts froze at that sentence, even as my hands still moved. What about the Alienage? Was it okay? "I'm sorry, but the merchants I've talked to don't know about your home, Aiden." As soon as I finished translating the words for Cleon, I could only put my face in my hands, bowing as I ground my teeth. Cleon rubbed soothing circles on my back, but it didn't take away the knowledge that _I_ had given the opening Howe took. "He's also the Teyrn of Highever." I looked at Lord Nuada, and… well, while I was angered at hearing it, I was glad to see Lord Nuada wasn't hiding behind his smiling mask this time. "I don't know what's worse. That Howe has control of our homes, or that he got it because Loghain didn't trust Elspeth, even after she _asked_." His voice cracked on the last word and Mistress Layla shifted to the floor, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

Cleon nudged me, and I rapidly signed out the conversation for him. Afterwards, he nodded and signed back. I translated, "So, he didn't reciprocate the trust you two put into him?" Lord Nuada sighed and nodded, tensing. "I'm going to kill him." 

"Cleon, I love you dearly, but either Aiden or I get first dibs." Lord Nuada's eyes were fierce, and I caught my breath as I recognized the light in them. I'd seen it in Teyrn… in Bryce Cousland's face too, during the Landsmeet. The light that marked all their successes, and inspired their people to follow them faithfully. "I've no illusions he'll treat the Alienage any better than he'll treat Highever." As I translated, Cleon nodded, understanding and I slumped at that wonderful reminder. Had… had my admitting guilt… had my sacrifice been wasted? 

"There is more," Mistress Layla murmured. Both Cleon and I sighed, me not even having to translate as Cleon read her tentative body language, and she smiled sadly. "There is a civil war." …You have _got_ to be kidding me. THERE WAS A BLIGHT, DAMN IT! We really _were_ the only ones actually trying to deal with the threat! "The Bannorn rose up or… something?" She looked to Lord Nuada, poking his cheek. He gave her a look while I made sure Cleon had gotten everything. I was worried about forgetting the signs with all this… _wonderful_ information. "Ah! R-right, I am sorry. I forgot that you asked for me to not do that on your blind side." Right, we needed to learn what quirks he had now. "But, I do not quite remember your explanation?" 

"Basically, the Bannorn decided Loghain was full of it, and rebelled," Lord Nuada answered. When Mistress Layla tried to move away, he caught her sleeve. "No, stay. I like knowing my right isn't unguarded." She nodded, and smiled brightly. What had happened between them? "Fereldan is divided into two while the darkspawn devour the south. Lothering's gone." I closed my eyes at that. Expected, but still… "Anora's mysteriously absent during all of this too. I have _no_ idea what in bloody flames she's doing." And it was clear from his tone and posture that he was rapidly getting tired of everything. 

"My experience might be different from most, but by my eyes, she always seemed more of a politician than a queen," I murmured. My stomach churned in anxiety, but I kept myself from curling into myself through sheer force of will. Thankfully, Lord Nuada didn't look offended. Mistress Layla just looked curious, while Cleon nudged me again to remind me on signing. I wondered if we should pause for paper, but then decided against it. It would probably take just as long. "I won't deny she's skilled, nor will I deny she's well loved, but I can't say the lives of elves have been _good_ under her rule." After all, Vaughan's worst deeds had been during the past five years. 

"Mmm, I suppose stepping back, she could be waiting to play the game." Lord Nuada nodded, even as he sighed again. "I feel like I'm back in Orlais." …I didn't have a sign for Orlais. "Can you sign 'Leliana's home country'?" I nodded and signed that to Cleon, who nodded after a moment of thought. 

He brought his hands up to sign again, and I translated again. "Why is no one going after…" I trailed off, tilting my head. "Cleon, who are you referring to with that sign?" It was a Qunari sign for 'person who must die immediately'. "Is that Howe?" He nodded. "I didn't use that one for him!" Cleon grinned. "Ass." I couldn't help but glower when both Lord Nuada and Lady Layla snickered. "Regardless, the question was 'why is no one going after Howe?.'" 

"Ah." Lord Nuada slipped back into the smiling mask. I resisted the urge to sigh even as I prepared to sign. "The official explanation is that they were traitors, allying with Orlais." That… that sentence didn't register fully, even after I signed it for Cleon. "It's bullshit, and everyone knows it, but since it's the official story with no countering evidence, no one has a leg to stand on." Lord Nuada's voice became a growl. "Andraste's flaming…! Mother destroyed an Orlesian warship when she was fifteen!" She… what. "If you're going to lie, you have to make it believable." 

Cleon nudged my arm and signed, 'Is it bad that I am a little glad he's rambling?' I paused to think before shaking my head. No, it was… probably good for him to vent. …It was probably good for me too. 

"That is all the information we have on that front for now," Mistress Layla murmured. She stood, brushing off her skirt, and Lord Nuada stood with her, stretching his arms above his head. 

Cleon waved his hand to catch my attention. 'We should collect more information.' 

"Very true," I agreed. I slid off the bed, wincing as my legs protested. "More information gathering, at least for the next day or so." All three nodded. "Not today, though. We need a break." 

"Good. I would scold you otherwise." Lord Nuada and I both lunged to trap Cleon's arms as he prepared to throw a knife at Layla's startled squeak and jump. Well, jump. "Ah, I'm sorry." I had the strongest urge to yell at Wynne, but I held it in check. She hadn't had time to adjust to Cleon's deafness. Maker, I hadn't fully adjusted, and I'd _been_ there. "I simply came to tell you Zevran is fully healed," she explained. The dryness hiding under the words made me think Zevran had very much tried his luck. Somehow, it didn't surprise me. "If any of you want to talk to him." 

"I will," I volunteered. Slowly, I let go of Cleon, and Lord Nuada did the same. Cleon, scowling, returned the knife to his belt. I tapped his shoulder and signed, 'please, try to look first.' He grimaced, but nodded. I knew this was difficult for him too. I should change the subject… oh! "Wynne, do you know an Aneirin?" 

"Aneirin?" The effect the name had was immediately. Dark, raw guilt and pain flooded her eyes as she nodded. "Yes, he was… he was a student of mine. My first." She sighed, shaking her head. "I was a fool, convinced I knew everything. It cost him his life." 

"Not if he's the same as the one who saved us in the forest." Her jaw actually dropped. "Cleon has the note and amulet." Quickly, I signed to him what was going on, and he nodded, heading to Wynne and taking her by the arm, leading her out. "With that errand done…" I turned to Lord Nuada and Mistress Layla. "What will you two do?" 

"Knowing Layla, she'll want to check my injuries," Lord Nuada noted absently. Mistress Layla nodded, while I gaped. Didn't he refuse her last time? "Layla's learned when to stop pushing, so I'm swallowing my trauma and letting her." Trauma? "I'll tell you the full story later, but the short version is that I once had a Crow as a nurse." An assassin as a… maybe that is one I should let Lady Elspeth explain to me. I didn't feel comfortable with how tense he… wait, no, it should probably be something he tells me. 

"I understand," I murmured. After all, I… I had a problem with red. An actual problem. I needed to acknowledge that. And accept Sten's offer for help. "After that?" 

"I intend of giving everyone a good health checkover," Mistress Layla declared firmly. "I will ask how far to go, of course, but you all were without a healer for a significant time." True. Morrigan learned on the fly, but Mistress Layla had _years_ of experience from my limited understanding. "I want to make sure there is not something that was missed." 

"I'll probably head to the Chantry to check out their records," Lord Nuada said. I gave him a curious look. "Chantry keeps very good records on many, many things. You have to be careful with historical stuff, because they're incredibly biased, but records of battles and how to fight things tend to be invaluable." He shrugged. "Knowing our luck, we're going to be fighting demons again, and I'd rather have no one lose an eye again." Yeah, that… yeah. "I'll be sure to take someone with me, in case I get ambushed while out. Probably Alistair. I need to tease him some more." 

"You can't have him die from embarrassment." Lord Nuada laughed. "Then, forgive me, but I shall take my leave. Mistress Layla, will you do my health check after I talk with Zevran?" 

"Okay," she whispered, smiling. "We shall see you later." I waved goodbye as I headed down the hall, trying to remember where the room was. However, just as I found it, I also found Lady Elspeth, leaning against the wall by the door. 

"I'm sorry," she murmured, bowing a little. "But I figured you would be coming to talk to him." And, apparently, had to talk to me. 

"Are you done making that… whatever it was?" I asked. I shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "I couldn't figure out what you said." 

"Tenebris domina." Okay? "It's Tevene, or derived from it. I cannot quite remember. It translates to 'dark lady' and involves amplifying the effects of belladonna." I tried to pay attention, but… "Belladona is a poisonous plant once used for cosmetic purposes. The consumption of a single leaf or ten tiny berries is lethal." She smiled and I bit back the urge to point out most people wouldn't smile while talking about poisons. "Morrigan is watching the brew for now. I must return shortly." 

"All right." Meaning she had something she wanted to say and then she wanted to leave. "What is it?" She remained silent. "Lady Elspeth?" 

"…I will get you their army." Her words were quiet, fierce, and the 'Cousland light' was in her eyes. "I will win you Fereldan's army, to make up for the consequences of my choice." Her choice? …Right, to run onto the field. And probably saved Cleon and me. But I had a feeling she focused far too much on the negative. "I promise." Wait, could I think that without being hypocritical? Hmm… "So, I just… wanted you to know that." All I could think was how, in Lothering, she'd needed Cleon or I with her to even go shopping. And here she was… seemed like all of us were changing. 

"Thank you." I'd think about that later. For now, I could recognize how scary this promise was to her. She smiled slightly. "So, brew?" 

"Yes." She bowed to me again and headed off. I waited until she turned the corner before knocking on the door, just in case she had more to say. But she didn't, so… 

"Come in~" Bracing myself, I opened the door, to find Zevran shirtless, sprawled out on the bed. "Oh, how lucky I am!" he laughed, swinging his legs to sit up. I found my attention drawn to the tattoos. I'd thought they were just on his face, but he had patterns going all the way down his chest and abdomen, disappearing into his pants. "Like what you see?" Was it Antiva where Lord Nuada picked up the mildly flirtatious nature? I could _really_ believe it! Or was he just trying to distract me? Oh, I didn't know! I should've asked someone to come with me for this. 

"I just need to know your skills," I answered, deciding one of us had to be serious. He sighed, shaking his head. "So?" 

"I am skilled in many things. Fighting, stealth, seduction, poisons." Should I keep him away from Lady Elspeth then? "I know the Crows, so I can warn against more sophisticated tricks. I am also an excellent bedwarmer." Something told me I was going to get very used to such comments, very fast. "Plus I know many card games, massage techniques…" 

"I get it, I get it." I sighed, resisting the urge to sit down. "So, why would someone of your skills join the Crows?" 

"Oh, I never had a choice in the matter." Huh? "I was bought young, and at a bargain." …I had a headache. "Oh, but don't let my sob origin story bother you." He waved a hand to dismiss it. "The Crows keep one well supplied with their wants. Wine, women, men." He winked at me, and all I could think was how one Antivan was way too much for me. "Though the severance package is garbage. I wouldn't join, if I were you." 

"I don't think I'm suited for sneaking." 

"No, you're for charging forward, getting covered in cuts and scars to be admired!" He laughed at his own joke. "So, for accuracy's sake." Accuracy for what?! "What _is_ your preference? Women, men?" 

"Does it matter?" I sighed. Well, it wasn't like I kept it secret. "Both. I'm bisexual." 

"Oh, so I do have a chance!" I wasn't even going to react. Instead… 

"What do you want?" 

"Well, living is nice, and makes me marginally more useful." 

"Not that." He gave me a curious look and I looked back at him. "What do you _want_?" What made him take the job in the first place? 

He continued to stare before bowing his head and whispering, "Might I… get back to you on that?" I nodded, accepting that answer. I at least knew there _was_ something. "Regardless, I do have a piece of information you'd probably like. About Loghain." Hmm? "He requested that I not touch Nuada and Elspeth." He was still smiling, but there was something serious and calculating in his gaze. "I'd take advantage of that weakness, if I were you. I'm sure those two are already thinking about how. They're both very calculating, in different ways." 

"…I'll leave that to Nuada." My words were surprisingly firm. "He's much better at strategy than I." 

"Ah, so that is how the delegation lies." Uh… "Mmm, I think I will play a little with Wynne." I gave him a look and he laughed. "No, not like that. I know when to back off from the line, most times. But I think you all might like some of the Crow's sign language for your learning." Huh? "It's good to have multiple. To clarify, or to better hide. And it'll help you identify Crows hiding." 

"…You're frighteningly clever." 

"And here you thought I was just a pretty face." He winked and I rolled my eyes. "Until later~" 

I moved out of the way to let him leave the room and leaned against the wall In thought. Delegation, huh? Well, at this point… at this point, I was pretty sure everyone had named me leader. I shouldn't be! And yet… and yet, I was. So, I should just accept it. Think on what to do. It would be stupid to try and take on everything… 

I shook my head and walked out of the room. It would probably be best to think on such things later, when I had a clearer head. I just needed to get on. Somehow. 

I turned the corner and found Sten walking up. I hesitated, took a breath, and called out, "Sten?" He paused, looking at me stoically. "Let's spar." He studied me a moment before giving me a small, small smile, and nodding. "Thank you." 

One step at a time, Aiden. One step at a time. You could do this. Just one step at a time. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Zevran's recruitment! Everyone together! Aiden character development! (somewhat) Not… sure what else to say, actually. Oh, this'll probably be a good place. Slight change from initial pairings. Leliana-Aiden-Zevran is now one of them. (Sorry for the short fight, but I'm going to use it to better highlight a distinct characteristic of Zevran's that comes up when you befriend him) 
> 
> Next Chapter – Surprises with Nuada. 


	54. Chapter 47) Found

Chapter 47) Found 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_"Elspeth." Even though Uncle Loghain hadn't called me, the two of us went together to him. I was mostly there to give Elspeth a shield, though. Uncle Loghain was kind, but also a little scary. We'd only known him for a few months. "You two need to learn to not be such a set," he gently scolded with a sigh. Elspeth and I simply looked at each other and shrugged. "Anyway, hold out your arms, Elspeth." Confused, she glanced hesitantly at me. I smiled reassuringly and she did so. "Here." He plopped a strange, brown puppy into her arms. It took me a few seconds to realize it was a mabari. I'd never seen one before._

_Elspeth's eyes were wide as she stared at the squirming puppy, who immediately barked and licked her face, making her giggle. "He's wonderful…" she mumbled, half-hiding behind the puppy. "Um…"_

_"I thought he might imprint on you." Right, mabari were said to choose their owners. "He's yours." Elspeth gasped in delight and I smiled warmly. It was the first time I'd seen her so happy since we left Nevarra years ago. "I'll smooth it over with your dad." He poked me in the head. "You help her take care of him. Mabari puppies are rascals, just like you."_

_"Hey!" I protested, pouting playfully. But it went back to a grin as I watched Elspeth coo over the puppy. "Thank you."_

_"Seemed like she had a hard time faking friends." He gave me a look and I innocently shrugged, like I had no idea what he was talking about. "Mabari are good companions for the shy, and for the hurting." That fit Elspeth well. "Still trying to find one I think will get along with you."_

_"I'm good. I have people." But I could feel a real smile make its way onto my face. "Thank you, though."_

* * *

"So, that's what the werewolves look like," I murmured, carefully signing the words. I knew I had a sheet of paper just in case, but I still wanted to get this right. The sooner I did, the easier it would be on Cleon. Even as we chatted, I could see the frustration in his posture, but his eyes were stubborn. He and I were the same in that sense. We refused to let the sudden diminishing of a sense break us. I was glad he agreed to let me sit with my right side against the wall. I really didn't like anything being on that side. "That is really fascinating." 

'Glad you're enjoying it.' Cleon, of course, was scowling as he signed, but I couldn't blame him. He'd lost a lot in it. I had no doubts I'd be just as surly next time we fought demons. 'But yes, that's the gist of it. And this tea is weird.' Now that was a subject change if I ever heard one. 

"Weird in a good way or bad?" After I signed, I sipped my own cup. Elspeth, mostly because she'd missed it, had made tea for everyone and was currently passing it out as we relaxed in the common room of the inn. I liked it, but Elspeth always knew how I took my tea. 

'Getting back to you on that. Never had this type before.' Ah, yes, that did make sense. 'Others seem to like it.' I glanced at the others and smiled as I realized he was right. 'Anything else you wanted to ask about?' Well, I had basically been interrogating him on the Brecilian Forest and werewolves all morning. I had to do something to lighten the mood. 

I grinned as the perfect subject popped into my head. "Yes, actually, I do." He sighed a little. But he didn't look annoyed, so I kept going. "You want tips for Morrigan?" He frowned a little at my signs and I wondered if I'd gotten any wrong. Wait, what _was_ the sign we agreed on for Morrigan? Shoot, I couldn't remember. So, with a sigh, I jotted down Morrigan's name on the paper and tried again. "Do you want tips for Morrigan?" I pointed to her name, and he still gave me a confused look. What was I…? I was relying on tone and smile to communicate the innuendo, and all he likely got was me grinning like an idiot. Good job, Nuada. Thankfully, there was a sign for 'sex' among the Antivan and Kinloch Hold sign languages, so I added that in, and laughed as his face darkened with a pink blush, clapping my hands as he glowered. 

'You are an absolute idiot!' he signed sharply as soon as he caught my attention again. I simply grinned, though I did try to quiet down. 'No, I do not need those sorts of tips!' He was still pink in the face. 'Fen'harel's teeth!' At least, that's what I assumed that sign was. It certainly was a favorite with him. 

"I'm sorry. I had to." My hands shook as I signed, due to me still chuckling. He swatted at my hands, still scowling, and I held them up in a peaceful gesture. He crossed his arms. "I'm allowed to tease." I grinned as I signed and he just sighed. "I was teasing Alistair yesterday about Elspeth, you know." 

'Good,' he finally signed, letting himself talk again. 'Push them. I'm tired of trying to figure out if there's something or not.' Yes, I was also curious as to whether they had compatibility or not. Unfortunately, Elspeth's issues impeded it a lot. 'But fine, if you're going to tease, so am I.' Uh oh. 'What's the deal between you and Layla?' Wha…? 

I opened my mouth to answer, hands ready to sign, but I couldn't think of the words I wanted. Unconsciously, my eyes darted to her, chatting happily with Wynne and Morrigan over some magical theory, and I knew my expression softened. 

Cleon waited patiently, though, and I finally signed, 'I'm sorry. I don't know.' 

He gave me a hard look before replying, 'this probably can go unsaid, but don't try anything serious unless you're sure.' 

'I know. I promise.' 

A hand appeared between us and we both looked up to see Aiden there. "Sorry, but might I have a bit of your time, Lord Nuada?" he asked, signing for Cleon. "I got everyone to write down their skills." Oh, yes! 

"I want them!" I laughed. I waved so Cleon's attention came back to me before signing, 'Yay, strategy making time!' 

Cleon rolled his eyes, but smiled as he signed, 'I'll leave you to it. Going to talk to Zevran.' Aiden and I both waved goodbye as he left. 

Aiden took his vacated seat, spreading out the papers. "Here they are, my lord," Aiden murmured. I couldn't help but notice the title sounded warmer, less like a servant addressing a master, but more of a friend calling another friend an endearment. "As much as they all could remember, at least." I also noticed he sat and stood straighter, more confident, and honestly, his clear gaze reminded me a lot of Father. "Yours isn't here, of course, but I figured you know your abilities well enough." Give him a little more time, and I was convinced Aiden would be a leader soldiers would beg to serve. "My lord, are you listening?" 

"I am," I reassured. I automatically moved my hands for the signs, just to get used to the habit. "I was simply admiring your handsome visage!" He actually gave me an exasperated look! Success! "Fine, fine, you want me to be serious." 

"I know it can be difficult…" He snapped his jaw shut, eyes darting to the side sheepishly. I just grinned. Yeah, it would still be a bit. But, honestly, it probably wouldn't be too long now. "R-regardless…" 

"I was thinking of how much more confident you seem." He gave me a curious look and I smiled. "It's nice. I'm glad for it." I turned my attention to the papers, giving Aiden time to compose himself as his jaw dropped. "So, these are everyone's abilities and skills?" 

"Yes." Wow, this was written quite neatly. "At least, I think so." I glanced at him and he grimaced. "I have… the barest of reading abilities. It's enough to communicate with Cleon, thankfully, but I never had to learn anything more complicated than a tavern menu to survive in Denerim." 

"…I can teach you." He smiled at my hesitant offer. I thought about asking him a question that had been lingering in my head, especially after Elspeth told me about her conversation with him about how the Couslands were perceived by elves, but I decided against it. It wasn't suited for the topic. I'd ask him later. "It might be difficult getting a hold of books, but…" 

"Thank you, my lord. I'm beginning to think I need to know." His eyes were serious. "Can you help me ask Zevran for knife lessons?" Did he say 'knife'? "Valendrian gave me one that belonged to my mother." 

"Why would you need my…?" I began, but then I answered my own question. "He's Antivan and you're quite handsome, so he's flirting." Aiden just sighed and I snickered. "Yeah, I can, but you might have to deal with the two of us bantering. It's just how Antiva works." 

"I will trust your judgment, my lord." He went back to serious. "I was also thinking that everyone needed to learn some sort of secondary weapon." 

"I can teach everyone hand to hand combat." I surprised myself with the offer. I had never wanted to teach. I had never trusted myself. Yet, now… "Between Alistair and myself, I'm sure we can teach people longswords." 

"Have him teach Lady Elspeth. Maybe something will happen and she'll stop thinking we're silly for teasing." I had to bite back a smile. "Sten is teaching me more greatsword techniques under the guise of beating my ass into the ground." That sounded like him! "Leliana…" 

"If she doesn't know more than one weapon already, I'll eat my armor." He burst into laughter, and I let myself smile this time. "I think I can also convince Wynne and Morrigan. Will Cleon get mad if I use him as bait for the latter?" 

"Alistair did it." Ha! "That done with…" Aiden pulled out the last treaty from his pocket, smoothing it out on the table. I folded the paper with the skills listed and set it to the side. I'd study it later. "We have to decide the next step." 

"That's true." I tapped the paper and then tapped next to it, representing the invisible fourth source. "Either we go to Orzammar or Redcliffe." 

"It's probably best to assume we're going to have trouble no matter where we go," Aiden sighed. I sighed too, and nodded. It was much safer on us that way, mentally and physically. "So, where to go?" 

"Orzammar is going to be a nightmare even if the place is running normally," I told him. I paused as I heard a mabari bark and immediately twisted to check on Elspeth. I caught the tail end of her wince, but her hands remained steady as she passed tea to Sten and Alistair. What bits of her conversation I could hear hinted she was telling the about the tea itself, to both of their curiosity. 

"My lord?" Ah! Aiden! 

"I'm sorry." I returned my focus to him. "That was a mabari." Aiden nodded, understanding. Ah, I missed Eoin. "Anyway, though, Orzammar is complicated. I've gone _once_ and I honestly can say it didn't impress me." 

"Bad?" 

"Orlais's Game made more sense." His expression blanked. "Remind Elspeth, Leliana, or me to give you all a description of the Game. Who knows? You might have to play." 

"Maker have mercy." I grinned at his deadpanned tone. "Redcliffe was fine before Ostagar, at the least, but it's not far from Lothering, if I'm remembering correctly?" 

"It's a decent travel, but it is possible for darkspawn to have already shown up. That's likely going to be what we're dealing with." 

"And Arl Eamon?" 

"If worst comes to worst, I have fifty things I can blackmail Eamon on, and I am pragmatic enough to pull that out if need be." He gave me an incredulous look and I grinned. "Don't underestimate how much information a flirt picks up. If people think you're occupied, they just babble. Not to mention, Highver _does_ have some spies." Most noble houses did. "Father had it on hand just in case Isolde proved false." Aiden had a thoughtful look. "Something wrong?" 

"I… don't suppose we could utilize…?" He sighed, shaking his head. "No, sorry." 

"I don't have the information on hand, so I can't answer that." I grimaced at the thought. Spies _would_ be helpful right now. "A lot probably burned, and it wouldn't surprise me if the record of which spy was where was among the things." Ah, we'd kept really important stuff at the castle, just in case. Damn Howe for burning it. 

"Right." Aiden sighed again. "Regardless, should we split the group again?" That was the question. In theory, it would be faster, but you also had the problem of what potential trouble we'd face… 

"That's probably a question better put to the group," I answered after a moment of thought, standing. Aiden nodded and stood up as well. There was a bit of scuffling behind us, the innlady dealing with a rambunctious child from what I could hear. "So, shall we join the o-?" 

"Uncle?" My thoughts slammed to a stop. My body stiffened. Even my breath stayed trapped in my throat as everything in the world just _froze_. "Uncle?" I was hallucinating. I had to be. That couldn't be… "Uncle!" If that wasn't the case, then it was something else. Some other child calling for their uncle in a voice so like… "Uncle!" 

Slowly, certain I was falling into insanity, I turned, the world disappearing. The only thing I could see, hear, was the little boy standing just a short distance away, staring at me with eyes the same color as Fergus's, set in Oriana's face, and hair a darker shade of Oriana's. 

I was hallucinating. I had to be. There was no way… It couldn't be… 

"Uncle!" The little boy threw himself at my leg, making me stumble back. He was… I was dreaming. I was back in the Fade. Layla and I hadn't escaped and the Sloth demon just gave me an even more elaborate dream to keep me trapped. Though wait, no, I doubt the demon making me lose my eye would be… though it could be really elaborate… "Uncle." No, Layla and Wynne had said we were out, and I trusted them, and damn that whole escapade for making me unsure of what I could see and feel. "Found you." He looked up at me, tears filling his eyes. Still, I could only stare. This… this was… "I finally found you, uncle." His hands shook as they clung to my shirt. They pressed into my stomach, hard enough to hurt. "I was really, really scared, but I found you!" 

"Yeah, you're the best at hide and seek," I whispered, the words falling out automatically. Shakily, I rested my hand on his head, certain he'd fall apart at a touch. But no, my fingers just touched soft hair. "Oren." The name made it all click and I felt my breath hitch in a sob as I crashed to my knees, gathering him up in my arms, pressing his face into my shoulder. "I'm sorry to make you wait, Oren." I couldn't stop crying. But I didn't care. I didn't care at all. "But I'm here. I'm here." The world around me roared into life, and I could hear the gasps of shock and yelps of surprise, the whispers asking what was going on, the sharp crack of a teacup shattering against the floor and yells of pain as hot tea splashed on them. 

But it was happy barks that caught my attention enough to make me look up and I smiled though the tears as I saw Eoin rushing up, limping slightly. No, this couldn't be a dream. I would've never had him limping in a dream. 

He affectionately nosed my face before suddenly jumping up, paws resting on something. The something yelped, sounding like Elspeth, and I had it confirmed when she collapsed next to me, arms wrapping around all three of us as she broke down in tears too, smiling wide as Oren wriggled out of my hug just enough to cling to her skirt. 

Alive. They were both alive. Eoin was alive. Oren was alive. Two things I couldn't even bring myself to hope for had… they were both… 

Ha, maybe miracles were possible after all. 

* * *

I still felt like a weeping wreck hours later. I took deep breaths to try and calm my raw nerves as I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. Oren had a lot to tell Elspeth and me. Eoin protected him during the attack, and Rory, bless him, actually managed to find him and get him to Father and Mother for last goodbyes. Father told them of a way out, after giving them a pack full of things Oren didn't know, and Rory basically picked up Oren and ran all the way south, Eoin taking an injury that caused his limp. When they got to the inn, Rory made the innkeeper promise to keep Oren safe before dying of his injuries. He'd apparently used the last of his breath to tell Oren to wait for Elspeth and me here, to hide until we came to 'seek' him, making it a game to keep Oren calm. He was… always loyal, and always faithful. I wished I could've thanked him, one more time. I owed him a drink or ten. 

"Nuada?" Right, I was in a room with all the others, everyone gathered after scouring the area for information while Elspeth and I tended to Oren and Eoin. "Is everything all right?" And that was Wynne, asking gently. "You and Elspeth look wan." 

"We're simply a bit tired," I easily lied, opening my eyes and smiling. I hoped it didn't strain. "Oren is a nightmare to put to bed." But he was fast asleep in a room down the hall, Eoin guarding him. "I'm sorry. Have I missed anything?" Belatedly, I brought my hands up to sign my words for Cleon. I caught his nod and focused on everyone. 

"Zevran was just saying he actually managed to gather quite a bit of information," Leliana answered. Zevran, bowed with a little flourish, despite sitting on… was that a dresser? This room didn't have nearly enough room for everyone, yes, but did he have to perch like a bird? It made me grin. "We haven't heard his source yet, though." 

"My dear Leliana, the source is simple," Zevran laughed. He brandished a piece of paper like a note. "Just a little wave of this and behold! Information!" Was that the paper that showed he worked for Loghain? Never let it be said a Crow wasn't clever. "Now, my information. Most of what I heard was, sadly, not useful." The paper disappeared as he shrugged. I glanced around and saw Layla signing for Cleon. Good. "I did hear that a young Thomas Howe was in charge of Highever, though." Thomas… "I also heard that there is some sort of strange trouble. Amaranthine soldiers suddenly disappearing, and their corpses being found, neatly killed and all belongings stripped." 

"Guerilla tactics," Sten supplied, while Elspeth and I shared a secret grin. Our people were fighting back. "Clever, but useless in a long-run unless there is a push with an army that can regularly gain supplies." Yes, that was true. "And runs the risk of being found." If Thomas found where they were hiding, I would be _very_ shocked. If they were where I thought they were, then they were _very_ well hidden. "But why gather this information?" …Ah. "You have to defeat the Blight, yes?" That was the rub. That was… that was the very irritating rub. 

I ground my teeth, frustrated as I closed my eyes again, listening to the others talk without processing their words. I was torn. As a Cousland, my duty was to protect Highever, and my heart screamed for it too. However, as a Warden, and to be honest, also as a Cousland, my duty was to end the Blight and protect Fereldan. I had no idea which duty should take… no, I did. I was a Warden first now. I just didn't _like_ it. I also didn't like having to separate from Elspeth so soon, but I knew I would have to. _Her_ duty was to protect both Fereldan and Highever. We would leave to go to either Redcliffe or Orzammar, and she would leave to go to Highever. That was the fact of the matter, and there was nothing to be done about it. I just had to swallow the frustration and pain, and not let one bit of it show. 

"Supplies?" That word filtered through my ignoring and I opened my eyes, focusing on Aiden as I recognized his voice. "Ah, sorry," he murmured, hands fluttering with signs so Cleon could keep up. I almost sighed in envy. I'd have to work hard to become fluent. "I was simply wondering… Highever still has supplies, yes?" I nodded, frowning slightly. Yes, we had copious amounts of supplies, but Elspeth could win those without our help. We needed soldiers to fight and use those supplies. "I was also trying to remember what Master Duncan said Highever's rights were, in terms of it being a principality? None of us remember anything." I glanced at Elspeth, curious as to why she hadn't spoken up, and saw her focused on the pack. We'd brought it from Oren's room to look through after talking here. "My lord?" 

"It means we govern our own taxes, and there's a small tariff for goods exported to and from it," I answered easily. I crossed my arms, before immediately un-crossing them so I could sign for Cleon. I had to remember that. "Highever is essentially autonomous, and, really, Loghain naming Howe Teyrn, or acknowledging the title, is really illegal, but we… don't… have…" I trailed off as a piece suddenly thunked into place in my head, and I turned to Elspeth, wondering if I was horribly off. 

But she had the same stunned look on her face. So, without anything but a silent nod, we lunged for the pack Oren had, ignoring everyone's yelps as we rifled through. There were portraits, important letters, sentimental things… and there, right on the bottom, was a book. I snagged it first and yanked it out, flipping through quickly. Elspeth leaned over my shoulder, skimming the words so all I had to do was flip. 

"There!" she gasped, pressing her hand against the page. She and I shared a grin as we both confirmed it was what we thought it was. We had him. We had him! 

"Um…" Both of us looked up to see everyone staring. "Sorry, but you two just suddenly went quiet," Alistair mumbled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair before signing. I wasn't sure if Cleon was paying attention, though, considering the annoyed scowl he had leveled at us. "What's going on?" 

"Basically, Father was a sneaky son of a bitch, and set a trap," I answered, grinning. Elspeth took the book from me, and flipped through the rest of it as I stood up. "And that trap caught Loghain and Howe both." Everyone was giving me weird looks, and I briefly wondered why before cursing silently. This was just like with the Crow situation yesterday. I had to remember that I haven't known them forever. "I'm sorry. If you'll give me a second…" 

"We can call 'oathbreaker'!" Elspeth declared fiercely, eyes lighting up. She stood, showing me another page, and I smirked at the words there. Oh, yes, we _had_ them! "We can call 'oathbreaker' on them both." And everyone but Aiden and Alistair just stared in confusion. Should I explain? Wait, but what signs did I need to use? 

"Oathbreaker is one of the harshest insults in Fereldan," Alistair hesitantly explained for everyone. He used the templar sign for 'damned and condemned' for 'oathbreaker'. That was incredibly accurate. "Because of the nature of Fereldan, oaths and promises are held in the highest esteem. No one will want to associate with one. I think my lessons described them as 'demons in human form'." He looked to me, frowning in confusion. "I thought you have to have physical proof to call one that, though, legally." 

"There is a legal process for that?" Morrigan asked, incredulous. I almost rolled my eyes when I realized she had pressed herself into Cleon's legs, much like a cat curling around their favorite toy. "How pointless!" 

"You can make whispers of it, but if you want to go through the official naming of it, then you have to go through official naming things." Alistair's voice was very dry. "Don't see what's so complicated about that. We're talking about a legal designation." 

"Is that not too large a word for you?" 

"If I may interrupt your arguing, I'd like to explain things," I deadpanned. Cleon, catching on despite me not signing, rolled his eyes and signed to them both, too fast for me to read. Whatever it was, it made both of them sigh and look away from each other. "Thank you, Cleon." Elspeth passed me the book and signed out things for Cleon, leaving me free to just focus on my words. I knew she'd know exactly what I'd need. "Now, it all lies with this lovely book." I held it up for emphasis, grinning. "It contains copies of _every_ oath sworn to and by Highever, starting from when Sarim Cousland took over Highever. Some are simply referenced now, due to the conditions of the oaths no longer applying. However, there are some old oaths that hold fast to this day." I flipped open the book to the first page Elspeth and I found. "One of them is this." I turned the book to face them, even though I knew they wouldn't be able to read it from where they were. "This is the oath King Calenhad swore to my ancestor, Elethea Cousland, upon her swearing fealty to him during Fereldan's unification." I saw their eyes bulge and grinned. "This is the oath _every_ ruler of Fereldan takes up upon taking the throne, due to the wording. King Calenhad specifically phrased it so that Highever would always be a principality to Fereldan, no matter what family held the throne." My grin turned to a smirk. "This is also the oath Loghain took on the second he declared himself Regent. With this as physical proof, we can name Loghain 'oathbreaker', and it will have a huge effect, since it is such an _old_ oath." 

"We also have the oath Howe swore to Father," Elspeth added, taking advantage of the stunned silence. For my part, I could feel the battle-fever pulsing through my blood. They were trapped. They were trapped, like rats in a cage. Father, you kept thinking of how to protect everyone until the end. "With it, we can call him 'oathbreaker' as well. He's avoided it with his lie of my family being traitors, but that will not protect him when his oaths state that he should have collaborated with another lord of equal or higher rank to investigate, instead of ambushing in the night." Elspeth's hands practically flew with all the signs, and I knew the two of us would have to clarify things later judging from the confusion I saw flitting across their faces. But that was fine, because they were _listening_. "With that, soldiers and supporters will leave their side, if only to protect their own reputations. This is also not a morally grey- Cleon, Alistair, by all that's holy, shut up and let me talk." I probably would've laughed at Cleon and Alistair's immediate winces and snapping of jaws, but I was a little distracted because I swore the last time I heard Elspeth talk like that, we were five years old. "Now, then, this is not a morally grey scenario. Loghain broke an oath he took up upon becoming Regent. Howe broke the oath he swore to Father. There is no ambiguity." 

"That means there's not going to be any 'maybes' involved," I picked up, giving Elsepth a chance to breath. I set the book down so I could sign and give her hands a break too. "Anyone who stays with Loghain and Howe is far more terrified of their reputations than the sanctity of their own, completely amoral, or absolute idiots who shouldn't be ruling lands in the first place. We'll be doing Thedas a favor removing those last two." I caught a couple of grins. "With their support weakened, so will their side in the Civil War, leading to less battles, and less chances of indiscriminate slaughter." 

"So, we will have a high number of Fereldan soldiers to recruit when the time comes." Elspeth's eyes shone with determination, and I thought I saw Aiden nod, smiling slightly. "If… no, when we secure an alliance with either Highever or Redcliffe, then we can also call an emergency Landsmeet to bring all the nobles together. I can win over any nobles who hesitate to join up with the Wardens." I smiled softly, a little sad, but mostly glad, at hearing her being so confident. "From there, we can end the conflict with Loghain in a single duel." 

"And I will win that duel." This… this would work. We just had to _get_ to that point. "So, when I win-" 

"That's quite the boast," Sten scolded, interrupting us. He looked rather unimpressed and I could feel myself scowl. "You should not-" 

"Is it boasting when it is fact?" I demanded calmly. I met Sten's eyes firmly, shifting my stance and head just as Father taught me to hold myself with the utmost confidence. It was one of the first lessons any Cousland learned. By holding ourselves a certain way, we could convince thousands to follow us. "I will win. I can beat Loghain, easily, as I have two advantages over him. One is that I was his student. I know most, if not all, of his tricks." Those lessons… they had always been fun… "The second is that he likes me. He will hold back, whether he consciously acknowledges it or not, because the duel will be with live steel. I don't have that same hesitation." If killing Loghain were what I had to do to protect Fereldan, I would do it. I would wonder the morals of it later. "So, I will win. It's that simple. However, even if I did not have those advantages, I would still win. I will shatter impossible odds if that is what it takes to do my duty. Shattering Loghain's shield is child's play compared to that." To my slight surprise, he simple nodded. Well then… "So…" 

"Forgive me, but if I might cut in and summarize?" Aiden requested. All eyes focused on him, but he was looking right at us, even as his hands carefully signed out his words. "When you win, we will have the ability to defeat Loghain with minimal losses on either side." Both Elspeth and I nodded. "Then, it seems the best action would be to go to Highever." …Wha…? "I won't claim to know the best path for tactics, but those supplies will be helpful, and there might be some soldiers who survived." I opened my mouth to tell him how low the odds were, but then snapped my jaw shut. _Oren_ had survived. Eoin had survived. I should… I should stop being so pessimistic. "Lady Elspeth stated this plan can be put into motion when we reach either Highever or Redcliffe. Redcliffe, however, is nebulous. But we will have Highever's alliance as soon as we free it from the Howes, yes?" I nodded firmly on that one. "Then that's that. We head to Highever, tomorrow." …I absolutely adored Aiden. I really did. "So, if I might indulge in a bit of teasing?" He immediately grinned. "Lady Elspeth, I think that's the most you've said to anyone in the group in one sitting." Ah. Um… oh, shoot, I should probably give the others a bit of a warning about what _sort_ of teasing to go… 

And there went Elspeth ducking behind me, eyes darting to the ground as she all but hid. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, voice squeaky yet quiet. "I know it's annoying." Aiden's expression immediately blanked, and I fought off a sigh. Yes, I definitely needed to warn them about Elspeth's self esteem issues. They popped up at moments others wouldn't expect. "People like me quiet." Cleon winced. Why? What did I miss there? "I'll… um… just go and look through the rest of this." Before anyone could protest, Elspeth was out the door, pack in hand. 

In the very awkward silence, I debated going after her. As much as I wanted to, it was probably better for me not. We actually _had_ other people now to depend on. "Wynne?" I began, turning to her. She waited patiently for me to continue. "Do you mind terribly chasing her down and seeing if she'll babble to you? You act just enough like our mother that she might." 

"Of course, dear," Wynne agreed with a smile. She stood up and brushed off her robe. "I think I have a bit of an idea of what might be going on. Irving suffered horribly from it when we were apprentices." Oh, well, that did make it easier. "Besides, I think all of us need to go and prepare for the trip tomorrow." 

There was some mumbling agreement and it felt like I'd just blinked and everyone disappeared, leaving just Aiden, Cleon, Layla, and me in the room. 

"I'm sorry, Lord Nuada," Aiden mumbled. Aaahh, guilt was setting in. I could tell by how he slumped. "I truly meant it as simply…" 

"You and I know that," I reassured. I debated finding a seat, but decided to just keep on standing. "She knows that too, on some level. She just… it's just something her mind does, turn what should be playful into barbs that dig into the skin." Maybe Wynne can help her figure out tricks to deal with that? She'd just pretended to not feel, and it wasn't like I had a better coping mechanism. "Add in some _lovely_ episodes in our past that I am nowhere near drunk enough to talk about, and… actually, maybe I should get drunk enough to talk about them one of these days." I hummed a little in thought, partly because it was probably a good idea, and partly just to change the subject. Also, it bought me time to sign things out for Cleon. "We'd need a lot of Antivan wine, though, or perhaps aquae lucidis." 

A clap caught my attention and I looked to Cleon. 'Do you even get drunk?' he asked, expression droll. I wondered if he was remembering the drinking at Redcliffe. 'You downed how many mugs of ale?' Yep, he was. 

"I probably only _drank_ two. The rest was sleight of hand." Cleon gave me an incredulous look, while Aiden and Layla giggled. Elspeth must've told them back then. "What? It's only cheating if you get caught." Cleon didn't even bother trying to sign, just lunged at me with the intent to playfully hit me. I decided to be equally playful and catch him, spinning him around. "Goodness, Cleon, you should've mentioned wanting my embrace." He freed an arm to bop me on the head. "Hey!" I dropped him and he landed with a grace a cat would envy. "Alack, alay, woe is me to be so cruelly rejected!" He rolled his eyes at my signing and tapped the side of his head. "Is that going to be our sign for 'touched in the head' insanity? I rather like it." He simply grinned. "To be actually serious, yes, I can get drunk, though I will admit it takes a lot of it. I've had to drink a lot of wine over the years to be polite at parties." Aiden and Layla were still giggling, so I should take advantage of this to say… "Also, thank you." All three looked at me in confusion, but I simply bowed my head. "Truly, thank you, for letting us go to Highever." 

I felt a hand press down on my head, saw by the clothes it was Cleon, and didn't even have to look up to know he was signing, 'idiot', likely while smiling. 

"He is right, Nuada." Layla appeared on my left, shifting to stand on my right when I raised my head. "Besides, you saved my home, remember?" she gently chided. She slung her arms around Cleon's and mine, signing carefully so Cleon could follow. "Why should I not want to help you save yours?" I… 

"Also, while our scars do not run nearly as deep, I don't think any of us left without injuries," Aiden added. He stood across from Layla in the impromptu circle, resting his hands on Cleon's and my shoulders briefly before returning to his signing. "Just as I know Cleon and Layla did not leave my Alienage without scars." Both of them smiled sadly. "When there is a chance, I will want to at least have someone check on my home. It only makes sense that we do the same for yours." Aiden immediately made a face. "It took forever to think of a way to get you and Lady Elspeth to agree, though. I had Zevran and Leliana helping me." Ahaha… "I was grasping at straws with the supply thing." 

Cleon waved his free arm to catch our attention. 'Well, it led to a future plan of action, so all worked out,' he signed. The three of us smiled and nodded. 'So, are there any plans to come up with?' Well… 

"Actually, I want to get something out of the way first." All of us focused on Aiden. "For some reason, everyone seems to like me as leader." He actually sent me a dirty look! I just grinned without any sort of shame. Layla giggled, while Cleon shrugged with an air of nonchalance. "Now, if that's going to be the case, which I think I'm stuck in." Now the dirty look was being leveled at all of us. "I'm going to be smart and delegate. Even if I _were_ capable of doing everything, which I'm not, splitting the job is such a good idea when we've a diverse group that's only going to get larger." He pointed to me before going back to signing. "Lord Nuada, you're second in command." Huh? Okay, that made sense, but I was a little surprised to hear him declare it so firmly. "You're also the main strategist of the group, and of the army we're eventually commanding." I decided the best option was just to nod. That also made sense. Cleon was probably the only one of us four with as much training in it as me. I… also liked it. "Cleon, you're going to be the scout, and coordinating strategies with Lord Nuada." Cleon nodded when Aiden stopped signing briefly. He and I exchanged a look that promised we'd hammer out the details later. "Mistress Layla, you have the unenviable job of making sure we all don't die." Yeah, that was probably the hardest job right there. Still, Layla simply smiled. "With that clear, we should probably get down to business." A song I'd heard in a Nevarran tavern came to mind, about defeating an enemy, and I knew that was a sign that I needed a short break. 

"Forgive me, please, but I'd like to check in on Oren before we sit down for who knows how long," I said, freeing my arm from Layla to sign. "I want to make sure he hasn't woken up from nightmares." 

"We should probably also snag some drinks and snacks," Layla giggled. Her cheer turned to a frown as she paused on a sign, but Aiden covered for her. "Thank you." She smiled again. "So, Cleon and I can go get that, while Nuada checks on Oren? Aiden, will you just wait here?" 

"Yes, I think I'll take a moment to enjoy the quiet," Aiden replied, smiling. A series of crashes outside, though, made it fade for a sigh. "Or, rather, I think I'll go check on that instead." Cleon gave Aiden a confused look. "Sorry, Cleon. There were crashes." He nodded, frowning slightly. "Hopefully, it'll be an amusing story to start the meeting off with." 

"I'll be heading off then," I stated, heading for the door. I paused when I reached it, though, and turned back to them. "And, again, thank you." I left before they could protest that they didn't need thanks. I could be grateful anyway, right? 

Smiling to myself, I wandered down the hall, trying to remember where the room exactly was. It shouldn't be far, and really, I could just walk by and wait until I heard a mabari bark, but that might wake up the other patrons and… 

My thoughts stilled as I heard whispers and I automatically pressed myself against the wall to creep closer. I grimaced at the disadvantage I was at, since this method put my _right_ side closest to the source, but it was the words I'd need more than anything for eavesdropping. So, who was…? 

"I'm sorry to bother you, Alistair." Oh, it was Elspeth, talking to Alistair. Well, now I had to wonder if I stayed for future teasing material, or left to lessen the chances of me being a mood killer. "It was an idea I had for the Landsmeet, but I did not want to say it in front of the others." 

"The Landsmeet?" Alistair sounded confused. "Now what idea would you have that would involve…" His voice trailed off for a sigh. "That's not going to work. You already know. Somehow." She knew what? 

"I dragged it out of Uncle Duncan. It would not be the first time I'd gotten information that way." I wracked my brain, trying to remember what she could possibly be referencing. But Ostagar felt so long ago, so it was difficult. "You're Cailan's brother." My thoughts froze for the second time today. Holy… "That means, legally, you are a clear candidate for the throne. That… can be used against Loghain…" 

"Oh, you don't want me leading!" Alistair's voice sounded light, but there was a tremble I did not think was laughter in it. "We'll get lost! People die! And then we're stranded in the middle of nowhere! Without any pants!" …I wanted to laugh, but there was no way I was going to give myself away right now. 

"I will not force you to take it." Elspeth's words were firm. "I simply wanted to make sure you were aware of the possibility. Please, think on it." 

"Fine." He sounded defeated. "Um… Elspeth?" I heard her make a little noise in confusion. "You… you haven't been nice to me because I'm a royal bastard, right?" 

"Why would I?" She sounded confused. "I've grown up as the daughter of a Teryn, surrounded by royalty and nobles from many countries. Titles don't impress me. They're nothing more than a burden, really, one I shoulder gladly, but a burden nonetheless. Without my father's, no one would ever look twice at me." 

"I… don't think that's the case." Alistair's voice was soft, shaking a bit from nervousness. "You're very pretty, and very intelligent. It's fun listening to you talk about history, and you and Nuada looked like you were having fun as you bounced off one another in there." I could easily imagine Elspeth staring in shock. "And I should probably leave before I put my foot in my mouth, right? Right." He laughed. "So um…" 

"Alistair?" I could barely hear Elspeth. "Thank you." 

"For babbling? Sure, anytime?" There was a short pause. "Wait, that sounded stupid. Okay, leaving, now. See you in the morning." 

"With a flower, yes? I like them." 

"You do?" I could hear the silly grin in the words. "Then yeah! With a flower." 

"Then, goodnight." I heard Elspeth walk off and had to fight to keep off my laughter. If she confided in him like that, then she _had_ to like him a lot. I was going to have so much fun teasing her. 

So focused I was in trying to keep quiet, I completely missed Alistair's footsteps coming closer. In fact, I wasn't even away he'd moved until he yelped, startled by my presence around the corner. "Oh, hiya," I greeted, waving a little as he stared. I wondered what to say next, and decided to admit how long I'd been there. This was obviously an important secret to him, and I liked him enough to not want to horde blackmail material. "So, that's why you look so much like Uncle Maric." 

"You heard that, then…" he sighed, slumping. He looked almost like a kicked mabari. "Look, I…" 

I held up a hand. "I won't tell." He smiled in relief. "And I won't force you. But I do want you to think strongly on it, Alistair. You're allowed to think for yourself, and you don't have to be a pushover." He looked hesitant, but I kept on. "That's all. Think and make the decision you think is best. Don't rely on anyone else to make it for you." 

"I…" He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "I'll try." That was probably the best I was going to get. 

So, I should make the subject lighter. "Also, congratulations are in order." He now looked confused. "Elspeth never confides in anyone, so your courting is obviously working." He squawked in protest, coloring a deep red. "But you've still a lot of work left. She's selectively dense, as I'm sure you can guess by this point, and horrible at communicating her feelings." Of course, I couldn't talk. "Let me know if you need help." I clapped him on the shoulder and walked past him. "Sleep well, Alistair." If he made a reply, I definitely didn't hear it, but that was fine. I did just give him two shocks. 

As I walked down the hall, though, I found myself smiling, and not just because of the teasing. Oren and Eoin were alive and I was going home. And I was going to save it with my dear, dear friends. 

This was definitely one of the best days of my life. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Welcome to the next arc of Saga, retaking Highever. Should be relatively short, especially in comparison to the Circle-Dalish arc. It's honestly something I'd wanted in the game proper. I also have the group themselves setting up the plan for the Landsmeet, showing them making plans and moving forward, and Aiden setting up the 'roles' of the four 'leader Wardens'. Basically, everyone is growing up. Yay? 
> 
> (Also, just for clarity, Elspeth suffers from depression. It shows more here because Nuada is aware of it, and she's opening up to the others, which leads her more susceptible to the doubts depression can cause.) 
> 
> Next Chapter – We're traveling to Highever with Cleon 


	55. Chapter 48) Ripples

Chapter 48) Ripples 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Cleon, you have to help me!" Tamlen whined, clinging to my arm. I tried to shake him off. I was sharpening my knives. "Please?"_

_"Tamlen, falon, you've known Lyna as long as you've known me," I pointed out. He just held on tighter. "Why are you so scared about telling her your feelings?"_

_"What is she doesn't like me like that?" I rolled my eyes. "It'll be awkward! There's nowhere to hide about the Clan!" Fen'harel's teeth. "You have to help me!"_

_"Tamlen, I am." I gave him a look. "I'm not stopping you."_

_"That doesn't mean anything! You like seeing me squirm." Well, couldn't deny that. "And teasing Lyna!"_

_"Yes, but if things got awkward between you two, I'd be stuck in the middle." He blinked slowly and I took advantage of his surprise to get out of his grip. "And that's something I avoid. Remember?"_

_"Oh." He hesitated. "So…"_

_"Falon, I will push you in a river if you don't hurry up."_

_"Right!" He flashed me a grin. "Ma serranas!"_

_I waved him goodbye and sighed. I'd have to be careful walking into my aravel now. No doubt Lyna would forget we shared one in the middle of making out._

* * *

There was a chill to the air as we walked. Not on the road, of course. As we drew closer to Highever's borders, we upped the chances of running into an enemy patrol. While most of us could fight, we had Oren to worry about. Nuada and Elspeth had _intended_ to leave him at the inn, but Oren was a manipulative little child when he'd wanted to be. Latched onto Leliana and Layla, and begged to come along. They hadn't stood a chance and it wasn't long before the rest of us reluctantly agreed. Sten thought it reckless, but agreed with Nuada's assessment that Oren would likely follow them anyway. Apparently, qunari children could be just as mischievous as any other child. 

The wind whipped my hair into my face, and I pushed it back, noting the length. Nowhere near as long as Nuada's or Elspeth's, but it certainly was getting there. I'd have to cut it soon. I didn't want to get caught in branches as I walked the threes. Whenever there were trees strong enough to walk, that is. 

A flash of movement caught my attention and I focused on Layla up ahead. She signed, 'you okay?' It didn't surprise me. She'd checked frequently, ever since I volunteered to take the rear this morning. 

I nodded, signing, 'Yes, I'm fine'. Just for emphasis. She smiled and returned to whatever conversation she was having with Morrigan and Nuada. Because of how huddled they were, I could not see their hands, but I caught the signs for 'shifting' and 'spells', so I thought they might be discussing a branch of magic. Knowing I wouldn't find more information from them unless they put space between them, my eyes flicked over to Sten and Wynne, talking nearby. 

Wynne's hands danced when she signed the Kinloch Hold signs, but were more hesitant on the others. But she didn't shy away from them either, as she talked to Sten. I read the signs for 'weather' and 'wool'. Sten's own signs, much surer on all, but there was something graceful when he signed in the Qunari sign language, tried to question her about what she meant, the slight frown and narrowed eyes showing his confusion. When Wynne mentioned 'measurements', though, I smiled, shaking a bit from silent laughter. She was going to knit him something because of the cold. And it was getting colder. The leaves were turning, and from there, winter would come. Had it really been such a short time? Ostagar had been fought during a summer's rain, after all. 

Enough of weather and time passed. I should focus on simply joys as we traveled. Such as everyone signing as they talked to each other. Whether it was simply for practice or to give me the opportunity to eavesdrop and jump into a conversation… I appreciated it. It made me feel less alone, and more part of the world. 

Only Alistair did not sign as he spoke, but I couldn't blame him for it. He had Oren on his shoulders, after all, and had to use his hands to make sure Oren didn't fall. Oren's face was bright with a smile, mouth open in a laugh. I thought he might just be giggling at how high up he was, since Elspeth and Alistair were engaged in some conversation. From the signs I could from Elspeth's hands, it seemed they were simply talking about Oren. I smirked as Eoin suddenly barked, pushing his way between them. Seemed someone didn't approve of his mistress flirting. Or whatever it was Elspeth and Alistair did. 

Leliana's flirtations with Aiden, though, were far less ambiguous. Or they should've been. Except Aiden rivaled Elspeth in terms of obliviousness to romantic overtures, apparently. True, I couldn't really see many of her signs as she chatted, but from what I read, she was trying to invite him out stargazing when we camped for the night. And specifically used the sign for 'romantic'. And a mention of how cozy her tent was. I had no idea how Aiden misinterpreted either of those, truthfully. But the signs his hands made, and the gentle smile on his face, were of 'relaxing' and 'I am glad your tent is comfortable'. Wow, Aiden. 

I grinned as Zevran suddenly jumped into the conversation, Aiden bursting into laughter at whatever Zevran said. I couldn't see Zevran's signs, as they were blocked by Aiden, but the wicked grin and gleaming eyes made me think he was flirting. Again. With both Aiden and Leliana, based on how Leliana's giggling blush and Aiden's shaking laughter. 

However, after a point, Aiden's face took a thoughtful look before nodding to himself. For a brief moment, I wondered if he'd figured it out, but his signs threw that thought away. 'I see I am interrupting. Excuse me.' I facepalmed as Aiden broke off, going to join Sten and Wynne in their talking, which had apparently turned to magic and mages, based on the signs I read. When I glanced back at Leliana and Zevran, their signs alternated between the woes of trying to flirt with someone oblivious and flirting with each other, Zevran far bolder in signs and how he held his hands than Leliana. 

Ah, it was still strange, not being able to hear anything. But, honestly, I didn't seem to be missing _much_ when it came to keeping track of my friends. Yes, there were missteps and frustrations, but I was muddling through just fine, and the silence was no longer so scary. I could live with this. Easily. 

A flash of movement caught my attention again. This time it was Nuada, waving me up. His easy grin and relaxed posture hinted it wasn't for anything important. Either an idle conversation, or just simply him thinking I had spent too much time separated from the group for the time being. 

'Ideas for teasing Aiden?' I signed as I jogged to his side. Morrigan and Layla were a bit ahead, signing rapidly about 'entropy'. Was that another branch of magic? 'Leliana and Zevran both tried, and failed, to flirt.' 

'So, that's what happened!' he signed back, grin flashing as he tossed his head back in a laugh. I wasn't sure if it was simply the thought of returning to Highever, seeing his nephew alive, or if he was just more comfortable with everyone, but his smiles were freer and brighter than they had been. I thought it a good change. 'I know a couple of tricks used in Antiva and Orlais, actually. Want me to list them?' 

'Yes, before we drown in sexual tension.' That sparked another laugh and grin, and I matched its brightness with my own. 'Tell.' 

* * *

Camp was set up quickly once the sun started to set. It was unsurprising, considering the number of hands and how quickly we all were adapting to life on the road. It seemed like we'd just settled in before everything was up, Leliana and Elspeth cooking, Eoin curled up at their feet for any tasty treats. Aiden and Sten were sparring in the corner, Aiden frequently ending up on the ground, only to roll right back up to keep on going. Layla and Wynne were in another corner, gentle light blooming in their palms. Magic lessons, ones Morrigan must've refused again, since she was nowhere near. Zevran was near Alistair. I couldn't see his hands as he signed, but the wicked grin and Alistair's very red face made me think Zevran was either teasing or flirting. I guessed the former was more likely. 

'It is going to kill me not to ask,' I signed to Nuada, taking advantage of the lull in our own conversation. We'd sat down a short distance away from the fire to discuss how we'd best do tactics for the group. 'What is going on with Zevran and Alistair?' 

Nuada's grin was decidedly wicked as he signed back. 'Might be wrong, but I think he asked Zevran for advice on wooing.' I gave him an incredulous look before grinning and ducking my head, shaking from silent laughter. Of all the people, Alistair! 

'Zevran is taking full advantage of this, isn't he?' I finally managed to sign, my hands shaking. I signed the words again when Nuada frowned slightly, realizing he must not have been able to read them properly with the extra movement. 

He caught it the second time, though. 'Is there any doubt? I think he wants to see how red Alistair can turn!' Which was, apparently, very red. I'd put it somewhere around a cherry's coloring, actually. 'Should we save him?' I debated briefly before shaking my head. He tossed his head back in another laugh. 'You are a very mean person, Cleon.' 

'Like you're going to help either!' He simply laughed again, leaning a bit from the force, and I felt the vibrations from the sound I couldn't hear. They just made me grin wider. 'So-' My arm was jolted, disrupting my signing. One hand dropped to my knife as I turned to face whatever had down it, only to see it was Oren. When did he wake up from his nap? 

As I stared, Nuada removed Oren from my arm, face stern as he scolded Oren. Oren visibly drooped, head down as he mumbled something. Nuada nudged his face up, and I focused on Oren's mouth to try and lip-read, but knit my brows when I didn't recognize any of the syllables. 'Dis'… something? Lip-reading was much harder than the tales would make you believe. 

Nuada facepalmed and moved his hands for me to see them. 'He apologized in Antivan.' Oh, so that was it. 'You want me to correct him?' 

'No, I can take the apology as it is,' I signed back. Nuada smiled wryly. 'I suppose I have an advantage over the others now, though. You and Elspeth can't speak whatever language you want and the signs will be the same.' 

'That is very true, and very useful, since Elspeth and I will likely start switching without realizing once we're in the thick of things at Highever.' Well, he used the sign for 'home', but I knew what he was referring to. 'Regardless, I'm sorry for Oren. That's rude even when it's not your primary means of communicating.' 

'Rude and dangerous.' I showed him the knife I had, for emphasis, and Nuada nodded. 'But I know it is simply a da'len being friendly.' 

'Elspeth and I will remind him of his manners.' And there was the stern look again. Ha! Who'd have thought he'd be that sort of uncle? 'Now then…' Nuada turned his attention to Oren, asking him what he was doing. I knew because Nuada kept on signing. 

However, Oren's reply made Nuada pause, hesitate in replying. Even though it had to be something innocent, based on the curious eyes. I tapped Nuada's knee to catch his attention, giving him a questioning look when he only glanced at me. 

Finally, though, his hands moved again. 'He asked where his mother went. He knows she died, yet…' Nuada let his hands fall, shrugging helplessly. Didn't the non-Dalish believe in the Chantry? Or did Nuada not really bother with it? 

I tapped his knee again, and brought my hands up to sign. 'My people believe the dead rest with Falon'din.' I held his gaze, making sure to not falter. 'Many of your people would say she rests with your god. Maker, or something like that.' Nuada nodded, still unsure. 'Wouldn't that mean, regardless of whose beliefs are right or wrong or anything… wouldn't that mean she is resting in a warm place now, free from pain, where she watches over her loved ones?' 

Nuada stared at me a moment before smiling. It was a small, broken looking smile, made him look fragile for the first time we met. He… had to trust me a lot, to let me see that sort of smile. That was how he was. 'Yeah, that sounds good.' And then he told Oren what I said, signing so I could keep track of the conversation too. I wondered if he was thinking of others who'd died. His parents. That knight. Duncan and Shem-King Cailan. I thought of the ones I'd lost. The father I'd never known. The mamae who left because she thought it best. Zaphikel, my first and greatest teacher. Tamlen, my dearest friend. Zathrian, my mentor. Were they in a warm place too? I hoped so. 

I waved my hand to catch Nuada's attention. 'Going for a quick walk.' He didn't question me as to why I had the sudden need. Instead, his smile became understanding. I wondered if he'd seek alone time after putting Oren to bed. Or maybe he'd slip back on the fool's mask to make himself and others laugh. Who was to say? 

'If you aren't back by first watch starts, we're coming to look for you.' A generous amount of time. Trust in my abilities, despite my lack of hearing, and respect for my want of space. I welcomed both. 

I left the two and ducked into the forest surrounding our camp. The wind was cold, and I flinched as something brushed my cheek. I reached up to catch it, and discovered it was a leaf, turning gold at the edges. I tossed it into the air and watched it dance on the wind before continuing my walk. I relaxed as the reassuring smells of trees and flowers wafted over me, noticing how tired I was. Probably from so much 'talking'. I'd get used to it, though. It always hurt to learn new skills. 

The smell of water caught my attention and I meandered towards it, discovering a large lake. The moonlight danced across the surface, the wind rippling the reflection… except there were too many ripples for simply the wind. Something else was here too. 

Cautiously, I crept along the shore, wanting to make sure there were no enemies nearby, or no animals that could wander into our camp and hurt someone. It was far more difficult to hunt without hearing, but my sight was strong and if I checked my steps, I knew I would be as quiet as I ever was. 

That said, I knew my breath caught in my throat as I realized the source of the extra ripples. Morrigan. I'd apparently caught her mid-bath. She was gathering her hair up, the moonlight turning her skin alabaster white and catching on the water droplets to make her sparkle. I shook my head at the thought. Morrigan really didn't suit 'sparkling'. 

Movement caught my eye and I grimaced when I realized I'd been caught. She was looking right at me, twisting so I could see her glittering gold eyes and devious smirk. She ran her hand through the water before bringing it up to sign, 'like what you see?' 

'I would not be so foolish as to take advantage of the situation to look at what you might not want anyone seeing,' I signed immediately, focusing on her hands, and the ripples in the water. Not… anything else currently within my view. 

'And if I extend the invitation?' As she finished signing, she offered her hands to me. I stared at them, thinking things through. I knew what sort of invitation this was. There was no way to playfully misinterpret. My options were limited: stay or leave. Take the invitation or walk away. 

I decided to take it, let her pull me into the lake and cause even more ripples to disturb the surface. The water was cold. But her kiss and hands were very, very warm. 

And the vibration from her moan as I kissed her neck was absolutely intoxicating. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Well, that's one couple official. Yay. Just a short little chapter for character interactions. Wynne and Sten's interaction is based on one of their party banters. Same to Alistair and Zevran's interaction. Cleon's reply to Oren's question is based off what a romanced!Merrill will tell Hawke after Leandra's death. 
> 
> Next Chapter: Interlude – Wynne 


	56. Interlude - Spirit Mage

Interlude – Spirit Mage 

* * *

She focuses inward, falling into a meditative calm. She cannot exactly communicate with the spirit, but they do have some sense of each other. She can sense the weakening, and wonders how much time she has left. Whatever it is, it's more than she had when that demon cracked her head against the ground, but she frets it won't be enough to see this to the end. She worries… 

She brings herself out of the calm and studies the group she travels with. Focuses, really, on the budding relationships. 

No one can miss Morrigan's victorious smirk as she presses into Cleon's side, even as Cleon himself playfully ignores her to sign to Zevran. She's not certain what to feel on that relationship, but she wonders if Cleon might be a good influence on Morrigan. Show her the importance of love and being loved, romantically or platonically. Show her how easy it is to be cynical when you were always protected from harm, never left alone without sanctuary. 

She watches the signs between Cleon and Zevran, picking up bits and pieces of their conversation. 'Flirting' and 'oblivious' come up often, so she thinks they are talking of Aiden. Strong and sure and… it was frankly amusing how easily he missed Leliana and Zevran's flirtations. She needs only to look to Aiden and Leliana now to see the increasingly frustrated attempts, and Aiden's worry of Leliana being exasperated with something else entirely. She chuckles, unable to help it. It was fun to watch, especially since she's fairly certain it is truly him being oblivious, unlike with Elspeth. 

Her eyes dart over to her almost unwillingly, noticing Alistair is giving her another flower. An amaryllis blossom. Her mind automatically conjures up the meaning. In Orlais, it represents pride, determination, and radiant beauty. In Fereldan, though, it is symbolic of success won after a struggle, recognition of a job well done. She wonders if Alistair knows the meanings, and if he chose it on purpose. She's certain, though, Elspeth will assume he doesn't, just from their talks, but the tiny, tiny smile as she accepts it speaks wonders for how much she likes the gift anyway. 

It is laughter that drags her attention from the two and she bursts into quiet laughter too when she sees the trigger of it. Oren had decided Sten would make a very excellent perch and had climbed up onto his shoulder. Even as stoic as Sten was, she can see the slight panic as he tries and fails to figure out what to do with the talkative child babbling on his shoulder. That Layla and Nuada refuse to help and instead laugh, Layla hard enough to have to lean against Nuada for support, just earns a glower. That Layla and Nuada linger as they touch, not quite aware, however, makes her worry more. 

Oh, it warms her heart. The budding relationships, even Cleon and Morrigan's, are almost too adorable, and she should be knitting little socks and making cookies. But she frets. She frets so much. These romances might be bits of paradise, but is it truly worth paradise if you could only enjoy it for a day? She remembers, clearly, the day she chose duty over all else. She can tell anyone what she likes, but she knows her choice. It hurt, to be separated from her son. It hurt, to be separated from _him_. That brief happiness had turned to ashes because of duty. She does not want them to deal with that pain. She truly doesn't. 

"Wynne? Favoritest mage ever?" She blinks, startled, and softens as she realizes Alistair is talking to her. He's a dear, sweet child, though she can see the signs of abuse and neglect in his demeanor. She wonders if Rhys grew up to be the same way? A kind, little goofy, child determined to do what was right, even when the world wasn't good to him. "Elspeth says we're here." 

"Is that so?" she asked, glancing around. She had only seen Highever in stories, and she has to admit. The province is incredibly beautiful, and the woods they were walking in were just peaceful. Her hand goes to the pendant from Aneirin. She hopes he is as content in his forest. When this is over, she will meet him, and apologize to his face, regardless of what his letter said. "What's the plan?" 

"Nuada and Elspeth have one, but they want to confirm it's viable before explaining." She is honestly just glad they remember they do have to explain. They had a bad habit. "Want help over?" 

"Oh, goodness, I'm not that old of a lady." He simply grins and offers his arm anyway, and she takes it with a chuckle. She sees Morrigan roll her eyes at them, but she chooses to ignore. She enjoys doting on him, and he likes finally having some affection. It did not hurt either of them. 

"Lady Elspeth and Cleon went to scout," Aiden explains as they join the group. Though Cleon is not here, Aiden still makes sure to sign. Practice, and creating a habit. She's glad to see how mature they're being. "Lord Nuada was just explaining why he cannot give full details." She knows she's not the only one who gives Nuada a disbelieving look. 

However, Lord Nuada simply snickers. "Oh, let me have a bit of fun," he insists. Sten attempts to pass him Oren, but he ignores him with a grin as he signs. "I've told you all that you're going to believe anyway." 

"I find it hard to believe what you said already," Layla reluctantly confirms, frowning. "How can a _single_ place not only hold all of Highever's citizens, but also not be noticed by the Amaranthine soldiers?" 

"With a bit of luck, Elspeth and I are going to show you." 

"I don't suppose we could get a hint?" Leliana asks, eyes already sparkling like she's solving a riddle. Maybe she is. "It seems so impossible, with the castle within sight." She looks up to confirm it for herself. Castle Cousland stands proud in the distance. They are close enough to see the soldiers manning the walls. 

"Perhaps there is a giant treehouse in the forest?" Zevran suggests outrageously. "Nice and sturdy, good for…" He trails off, glancing at Oren. "Ah, might not be a good idea to finish that rhyme." She almost groans. 

"It won't be any worse than Fergus using the term 'wench' around him, or Father coming up with a definition," Nuada laughs, hands flying with the signs. Everyone gives him an incredulous look. "My family is weird. This should be obvious." He simply laughs again when Morrigan pointedly nods. "Regardless, no, that's not it. There aren't trees large or strong enough for that." He points to the trees around them for emphasis. 

"A boat, then?" Sten asks, strangely willing to participate in the conversation. She laughs softly at how he's given up dislodging Oren from his shoulder and just decides to let the child do as he wills. "We are near the sea. I can smell it." A slight softening in his otherwise stern gaze hints he's glad for it. 

"That's a good guess, but no, that would be too dangerous unless they were out at sea, and not all of Highever can _sail_." Nuada grins, waving his hands. "They're back." 

"There's an entrance not far from here that hasn't been used recently," Elspeth answers as she jumps down from branches overheard. She pauses to sign what she said as Cleon jumps down next to her. All she can do is wince when she thinks of the jolt their legs took. "Cleon is mad I won't explain more." Cleon nodded for emphasis, scowling. "Did you give them any hints?" 

"You think I'll ruin our fun?" Nuada teases. Cleon, rolling his eyes, reaches over to tug his ponytail. "Well, come on. You'll get your answer soon enough!" 

'Why are we heading to a cave?' Cleon signs, even as he and Elspeth lead the way. 'It isn't even that large of a cave.' 

"Did Elspeth miss a sign?" Nuada makes sure to pair the signs with a concerned look, to emphasize he is not teasing. "It has an entrance." He uses a couple of different signs for entrance, just in case. 

'I got that. I want to know what it's the entrance to!' Cleon makes his signs sharp to emphasize an exclamation, still scowling. 'Layla, you get it out of him.' 

"How am I supposed to do that?!" Layla yelps. It makes the rest of them laugh. "You all are horrid, horrid people." She sulks and races ahead to walk with Elspeth. But it is in laughter they walk to the cave and in laughter as they watch Elspeth run her hands along the walls, searching for something. 

The laughter dies for startled gasps, and she can only stare in wonder as a piece of the wall swings out to reveal a staircase heading down. Underground. Of course. No one would just below, and it let them stay close. But the healer in her frets about dirt, and illness in close quarters. Water, food… were they truly all right down there? 

Still, as they follow Elspeth down, she sends up a little wisp to cast some light. She smiles as she sees Layla and Morrigan do the same. Morrigan's, in fact, floats straight to Cleon. 

"Oh, those are a lot less creepy when there are more of them," she hears Nuada comment shortly before the wall swings shut behind them, leaving the wisps as the only light. If she tiptoes, she can see Zevran signing Nuada's words for Cleon, so he isn't left out. "This entrance seemed a lot taller a few years ago. Sten, Alistair, and Aiden, are you two okay?" 

"Sten is crouching, but the ceiling is just barely brushing my head," Alistair calls back. She twists and sees Sten has passed Oren off to Aiden. "Should be fine if this isn't a long way down." 

"There is a lengthy number of stairs, but if this is the entrance I believe it is, then we will not be in tunnels long," Elspeth informs, voice barely loud enough to be heard. "Nuada?" There is more to the sentence, but it's in a language she doesn't know, full of hard and harsh syllables yet strangely lyrical. 

She sees Zevran shrug at Cleon and sign, 'Language I don't know. I'm sorry'. Cleon simply sighs and shakes his head. It's only repeated when Nuada replies, this one in a completely different language. 

"I don't suppose you two could keep things in King's Tongue when you can't sign to Cleon?" she hears Leliana ask. "What languages were those?" 

"…We spoke different languages?" Nuada's voice is confused as it drifts forward. "To confirm, I am talking King's tongue now, right?" 

"Yes? Do you two truly not notice?" 

"We _think_ in bunches of them and sometimes they slip out. Ah, Oren, do you know what languages they were?" 

"Nevarran and Tevene!" Oren easily answers, with a bright laugh. She's impressed in how he can indentify, and resolves to learn how to do the same. Learning is fun, after all. "Oh, I can see the exit!" 

Indeed, they step out of the tunnels and onto a short platform overlooking a wide area below. When she reaches it, though, she gasps, awed by the sight. There, just below, is a city. A large, beautiful city carved from stone and crystals, glittering in the candlelight, filled with people wandering about. It is a wonder that leaves her breathless, and reminds her of why she sometimes leaves the Circle. Sights like this… you could never find in books. 

"Welcome to Lowever, everyone." She only barely hears Nuada and Elspeth chorus the words, though she does catch their very proper bows out of the corner of her eye. 

No wonder they said it was unbelievable, and she is grateful to the Spirit for letting her live long enough to see something so, so wondrous. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I am a horrible person to name the underground city that. I couldn't resist the pun. (is it a pun? Can't think of the term I want. Play on words? Ah, whatever.) So, here is Wynne, with explanations behind her initial stance on romances for the Wardens, and hints to the Faith Spirit. (I also snuck in a reference to 'Written in the Stars', a song from Aida.) 
> 
> Next Chapter – Lowever with Layla 


	57. Chapter 49) Elven Memories

Chapter 49) Elven Memories 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"How does that even work?" I asked, somewhat baffled. "If they are half elf, then they should show characteristics."_

_"There are many who believe the highly adaptive nature of elven inheritance is a sign of the great magic they used to have," Irving answered. "There are many who are curious if elf-blooded mages sense magic differently than humans, but there isn't any research."_

_"Why?" It seemed like everything else was researched._

_"There is… a heavy stigma against elf-blooded humans, Layla." I frowned. That also made no sense. "Many think it a mark of shame." None of these made sense. "Regardless, this is a discussion about legal designations, not philosophy."_

_"Very well."_

* * *

It was warm. Even though we were stuck underground, and all logic dictated it should be dark and cold, it was warm. People were smiling, laughing even, as we walked through the crowd. If not for the stone overhead, I would have thought we were in the castle again. 

"So, Leliana," I began, turning to face her. My hands moved for the signs. Practice made perfect, and I wanted to be perfect in this. "When did you fall in love with Aiden? It came from nowhere!" 

"That's because, Layla, I'm not," she answered easily, yet quietly. I liked watching her hands sign. It was like a dance. "I am _interested_ , so I want to spend time with him." Ooohhhh… "By spending time, we'll become good friends and, perhaps, fall in love. But all my flirtations are simply to try and create scenarios where we can talk." She sighed, shaking her head. "Harder than it sounds. Who would've thought so much went over his head?" It was actually a bit funny to watch. 

"What of Zevran, then?" I glanced over at him as I asked, noting he was bothering Wynne about something. His signing frequently mentioned 'bosom'. "He flirts." 

"I think he focuses on me, because I am his guard, and Aiden, because Aiden is so oblivious." I could not deny that one. "It's rather like Nuada, though. No one expects a flirt to be good at anything but charming their way into someone's pants. While you're being charmed, you don't notice the poison being slipped into your tea, or the dagger sliding between your ribs." I was unnerved by how nonchalantly she listed those off. "I don't think he's actually planning on attacking us, but the purpose is the same. It makes people underestimate him." Both of us paused and turned as Wynne groaned and Zevran laughed. "I think he also just enjoys bothering people into exasperation." 

I burst into giggles, shaking my head, and turned my attention forward again. The people were greeting Nuada, Elspeth, and Oren with smiles and even tears. Our progress was slow simply because the three insisted on shaking hands or giving hugs to _everyone_ who came up to them. Even the elves pushed their way through to grip their hands tightly. I noticed, though, after they greeted the three and retreated, they eyed the other humans warily. Why would that…? Perhaps things for elves were not as rosy as I first understood? Then again, looking back, anything would have been better compared to Denerim's Alienage. That might have blinded me to things. Perhaps it had blinded the Couslands too? That was probably something to think on later, when things were peaceful again… 

Despite our slow progress, it was not long before the way suddenly opened up, and I tiptoed to see a group of people, all armored, clustered around a map on a table. The one with their back completely towards us had the same black hair that Nuada and Elspeth had. Was this…? No, surely… was the Maker really…? 

"Papa!" Oren yelled, racing for the person. The person stiffened, a pen falling from their fingers to clatter on the table. "Papa, Papa!" Slowly, the person turned, and I saw someone who looked like a slightly older Nuada, or perhaps a younger Teyrn Cousland would be more accurate? Regardless, his eyes were the same color as Nuada and Elspeth, and they were wide in shock. "Papa!" 

"Oren…!" the man breathed. He lunged forward, sweeping Oren up in a crushing hug. "Oren." He kissed the top of Oren's head, crying without shame. "Maker's breath… how did you even get here? Did some knights find you?" 

"No!" Oren laughed, beaming. "I found Uncle and Auntie!" The man froze again and looked over Oren's head, right at Nuada and Elspeth. Those two… they looked absolutely shocked. I could not blame them. I remembered how pessimistic the two had been. "See!" 

"Yes, I do." He set Oren down and, still crying, grinned. "You two… are so incredibly late!" Eh? 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Fergus!" Nuada instantly laughed, running up to hug his presumed-to-be-dead brother. I checked and smiled as I saw Alistair signing the conversation for Cleon. We all just… hung back. It seemed rude to step up. "We got a _little_ sidetracked by darkspawn, demons…" 

"Don't forget werewolves," Elspeth added. Her smile, while still small, was perhaps the brightest I had ever seen. Fergus snatched her in a hug as soon as she was close enough, and then he bent down to pet Eoin, who sat at her feet. "We've been quite busy." 

"Getting injured, from the looks of it!" Fergus grumbled. He pointed to her leg. " _You_ are limping and _he_ -" He pointed to Nuada's eye. "Well, I don't even have to say it. What did you do?" 

"I wasn't kidding about the demons!" Nuada retorted. I glanced around and saw the soldiers all smiling indulgently. It made me even giddier. Truly, this was unexpected! "I lost it because I didn't pay as much attention to wise advice as I should." 

"That sounds like something I'd do. Don't do that." He ruffled Nuada's hair. "You're the younger brother. Younger siblings are smarter than the older ones." 

"If we go by that logic, then that would mean I am the smartest," Elspeth pointed out. She batted Fergus's hand away as he tried to ruffle _her_ hair. "Is that something you want?" 

"Wait, was it a point of contention that you're the smart one of us three?" Fergus looked comically startled. "I thought those were the roles. You're the smart one, Nuada is the strong one, and _I'm_ the pretty one." 

"Someone hit their head again." 

"Well, I did take a head wound back at Ostagar." He brushed back some of his hair to reveal the scar along his hairline. "We got ambushed by darkspawn, and then separated. Some Chansind found us and tended to our injuries. Thanks to the fever I caught, Ostagar was four days lost when I was coherent again." Ah… "Took a bad injury to the arm, so I can't use my normal sword and shield. That means you're keeping the family weapons, Nuada." Nuada grimaced, clearly not pleased. "Using a greatsword and…" He suddenly trailed off, focusing on the rest of us with a look that screamed he honestly hadn't noticed us before. "And you two are letting me make a rude ass of myself and not be polite to your friends." 

"We were curious if you would set another record for obliviousness to surroundings." Fergus reached around and tugged Elspeth's braid. "It isn't my fault you get hyper-focused sometimes." 

"I can complain anyway." Despite the teasing, Fergus bowed formally. "Welcome to Lowever. You have probably figured this out, but I am Fergus Cousland, their older brother, and Oren's father." He straightened, grinning. "And you all must be the incredibly patient people who have had to deal with my siblings. I have a great deal of respect! I know how _extremely_ difficult they can be." He laughed as many of us nodded. Elspeth sighed, while Nuada simply shrugged and went to the table with the map. "I have noticed some signing. Is one of your number deaf?" After a moment, Cleon raised his hand, smiling slightly. "Then what is that I should do to make things easier?" 

"If you will simply speak normally, and try not to interrupt, my lord?" Aiden answered after a moment. I watched him struggle to look Fergus in the eye and leaned into him reassuringly. "We translate for Cleon, and it just becomes muddled when there's multiple lines of conversation." 

"Of course. Just hit me if I break one of the rules. Like Eoin when he misbehaves." Eoin growled and Fergus scratched his ears. "Can you keep Oren busy for a bit?" Eoin tilted his head before looking up at Elspeth. It was only at her nod that he nudged Oren off to the side, past the crowd. "Right then." Fergus clapped his hands. "So, we can do awkward introductions of everyone's names, or we can do that gradually and I get to the question that is quite bothering me?" 

"Certainly, my lord." I checked the others reactions and saw them nodding. I suppose they wanted to speed things along? I could tell Sten was already wondering what the point of all this was. "What is the question?" 

"How in bloody flames did you trick Nuada into coming here?" Even though he was still smiling, his posture shifted to become strong, eyes serious. "I know him, and I know the threat we face." Well, it hadn't been easy. 

"Among the items your father sent with Oren was the book of treaties." Fergus's eyes widened. "Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth stated we could name Loghain and Howe 'oathbreaker' upon gaining the assistance of Highever or Redcliffe. Highever seemed… more certain." 

"I suppose that's the case. The only bit of gossip you get out of Redcliffe nowadays is that Eamon is ill." He was? Perhaps that should be our next destination. Wynne and I could look at him. "If you want reassurance that Highever will support the Wardens, I give it freely." The words sounded more powerful than they should have. Perhaps it was because the soldiers around had quieted. "I don't know how much I can promise as of now, but what we can, we will give. That is Highever's way." That is what put them into this situation in the first place. 

"Yeah, but we're not going to have a lot to give with a strategy like this," Nuada suddenly interrupted. We all focused on him, and he was scowling at the map. "This is painfully inefficient, Fergus. I'm getting a headache just looking at it." 

"Are you sure that's not your ego growing too large for your big head?" Fergus immediately deadpanned. Elspeth shook her head, smiling, so I assumed this was fairly typical? "Do you have better ideas?" 

"I can think of twenty right off the top of my head, based on what's here." Really? "That's not taking into account what my friends can do." I was not the only one who preened a bit at that. "So, yes, I have better ideas." 

"However, is it possible to wait a while?" Elspeth cut in as Fergus opened his mouth to retort. Her signing was gentle and slow. "I'm certain the others would want to at least put their stuff down." This was very true. "Nuada and I also have not finished our rounds." Were… were they planning on greeting _everyone_? "I also doubt Eoin can keep Oren from you long enough for a true war meeting." 

"And this is why you're the smart one," Fergus sighed, running a hand through his hair. He turned to smile at everyone else, the surrounded soldiers and us. "Rest and relax, please. We'll have a meeting later. I have quite a bit of teasing I simply must catch up on." That sparked laughter from the soldiers. "Just pick a place to put down your packs. No one here is very picky." 

Apparently, those words were a dismissal, as soon everyone was milling about. "Cleon, Aiden, would you like me to drop off your packs?" I asked, signing quickly as I glanced up at them. "You two look like you've a plan?" At least, that was what I guessed by their determined looks. 

"Ah, yes, Lord Nuada asked if I would talk to Hahren Sarethia here," Aiden answered. He carefully passed me his pack and I stumbled a little under the weight. "He states that it's not uncommon for people to insist things are fine to their faces, but that Cleon and I might be able to get more honest answers." Ahh… still, when had he had the time to ask? "He's been thinking recently about how his family might not have been _much_ better, ultimately, than other nobles." 

'Shemlen who want to learn,' Cleon signed, shaking his head. 'Not even a year ago, I would have thought the world mad. Now, it barely registers as weird.' Was that a testament to how his world view has broadened or just how strange our lives were now? 'Ma serranas, Layla.' He passed me his pack and helped me balance theirs with mine. 'Be careful to not fall.' 

I stuck my tongue out at him childishly, and pushed my way through the crowd. Some soldiers helpfully showed me to one of the buildings, so it was not long before I was inside a beautiful room with geometric carvings all about. I stared at them for a while before looking for a good place to drop off the pack. I decided the table in the middle would suffice and set them down, squeaking as Cleon's tipped over and something fell out. I managed to snatch it before it fell, but I held it up in the candlelight when I realized it was actually a phylactery. The magic in it was old, like a towering oak tree. What was this? Why did Cleon have a…?" 

_'Elf blood!'_ What was…?! _'Magic gift!'_ Slinking feeling in my head, digging deep into my mind…! _'Learn!'_ Learn wh-?! 

Memories. Memories that were not mine assaulted my brain. Flashes of battles… the taste of blood in my mouth… the smell of rot clogging my nose… the burn on magic on my skin… places I had never seen… people I had never heard of… languages and accents that clunked in my ears… they were in my head. They were carving paths in my mind I did not want, did not need! Get out of my head! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! 

"Layla!" That was… that was my name, right? I could not think. I could not think at all. "Layla, hey, can you hear me?" Strong arms supported me. I could not think of their owner's name. All I could see was that he(?) was blind in an eye. "What is going… Elspeth, what do you mean 'ah.'? What happened?" Elspeth? Did I know that name? "No, Aiden, I haven't figured it out yet, and Elspeth is having too fast a conversation with Cleon for me to eavesdrop." Aiden? Cleon? Did I… They were familiar, but I could not place them in the whirlwind of a forest blooming in my head. Everything throbbed. I wanted to scream. Was I screaming? "Wynne, can you check her for injuries?" Who was 'Wynne'? Did that not mean 'victory'? Victory… victory… Enasalin… 

I blacked out. 

* * *

I came to it patches. First, there was just general sensation, the feeling of soft and warm covers and a cold towel over my forehead. Then there was sound, the murmuring of people in the distance and the gentle lilt of a song close by. It was only after that I managed to open my eyes to blurred patches of grey and blue. 

"Ugh…" I groaned, blinking slowly to try and clear my vision. It was hard, though, because… "I have words… for things I haven't seen before…" They were in my head, whirling and swirling. I felt like an entire library fell on my head. 

"Layla?" My vision cleared enough for me to just barely make out Elspeth as she leaned over me. Her fingers were cool and gentle on my cheek. "Can you hear me?" she asked. I slowly nodded. "Wynne left some medicine for you to take. Are you up for it?" I grimaced at the thought of eating something. "I can mix it with water." That I could do, so I slowly nodded. "Okay." She disappeared and I heard her bustle about. The song had disappeared. Had she been the singer? 

As the room sharpened, I managed to push myself. I breathed in deeply to calm my body and focused on little pieces of _my_ memory to reassure myself of who I was. My name was Layla Amell. I was a mage. I lived in Kirkwall before being taken to Kinloch Hold. I was a Warden. I survived Ostagar. I was not that other person. I was not the person with ten words for magic and twenty for a type of flower. I was not the person who could tell what was wrong with a spear in a single swing. Even though I had their memories, I was not them. 

"Here." Elspeth sat next to me, helping me hold the glass. "She said you had to drink it all," she explained. I nodded and downed it in one gulp. I was glad I chose to do that. It was _bitter_. "I have some tea steeping to take the taste out of your mouth." Oh, thank the Maker. "Do you want some ginger for your stomach?" 

"I… think I am okay," I finally croaked. My throat throbbed. "How long have I been out?" 

"It has been a couple of hours." She brushed my hair out of my face, smiling slightly. "You are no longer quite as clammy." Had she…? 

"You have not been here the whole time, right?" I would feel horrible! She had just returned home! 

"No, I took over for Nuada." That… was just as bad. "He took over for Cleon, who took over for Aiden, who took over for Wynne." So… "We all knew you would feel bad if it interrupted any of our plans, so we made sure to take care of everything first." I breathed a small sigh of relief. "Are you up for explaining what happened?" Ah… "It's fine if you're not." 

"No, but I do not have much of an answer…" I sighed, drooping. Elspeth held my shoulders, to make sure I did not collapse. "Cleon's pack tipped over, I grabbed the phylactery, and then my brain was assaulted." I hesitated before continuing, "I heard a voice when it happened." I ducked my head, hoping she did not think me insane. "It called me 'elf blood' and 'mage' or something." 

"So, the ghost didn't even ask." Did she just say 'ghost'? "I'm sorry, Layla." Her hand was on my cheek again, tilting my face up. "This is my fault." Her eyes were sad, and her posture slumped. "I found the vial in the Brecilian Ruins. It carried a ghost, and I gave it to Cleon. He worried Lanaya would be reckless with the ghost, so kept it in his pack." Then I picked it up. "I'm sorry." 

"If you give me sweets once Highever is reclaimed, I will forgive you." She blinked slowly at me, as if trying to determine if I was serious, before smiling and nodding. "I'm also curious. Who all did you and Cleon tell?" 

"I told only him, and he did not tell anyone about it being in his pack still." So, basically, my head was split open and stirred about because of a secret they had. 

"I want extra sweets." I was allowed to be annoyed, right? I thought so. "I also want a very, very long bath with… um…" 

"Providing they haven't been stolen, I have a large collection of bath oils and perfumes." Her smile grew. "They are quite fun to hunt through." 

"I want that, then." Perhaps it was childish, but I was annoyed! "I also want no more secrets." She looked a little concerned about that and I wondered why. Then I thought of what Nuada had mentioned. There were things in his past he could only talk about drunk. Surely, Elspeth had the same… "U-um… I mean… no more secrets for stuff involving us now, for important things." I made sure to hold her eyes as I said it. "That is okay, right?" 

"Yes, I think so." Still, her smile was sad. "You might have to prompt me, though. Nuada and I are still not used to having so many people we can trust." 

"I will." I decided pouting was the best option. "I will make sure the others do too!" 

"Okay." She poked my cheek. "You have color to your face again." Oh, that was good! "But now I have a question." Hmm? "You mentioned 'elf blood'." …Ah… "You are elf-blooded?" 

"It… seems so." I fiddled with my hands, glancing at the veins I could see in my wrists. "I never knew, so I don't…" Who was he? Who was my birth father? Was he a servant in the old estate? Was he a mage in the Gallows? Was he an apostate? Did he have red hair like me? "Is it a problem?" 

"It is not for me." I focused on her again, though, and saw her serious. "But there _is_ a horrible stigma against the elf-blooded in Thedas. Humans reject them for the 'shame' of being descended from elves. Elves reject them, because they are human in all aspects." Yet, despite that, the ghost had recognized that I was of elven descent. _Was_ there something different? Had the ghost just been that desperate? "I doubt any of our group is prejudiced in that fashion. But the rest of the world…" The rest of the world would condemn me for it. 

"Thedas sucks." Yet, here I was and here we were, trying to save it anyway just because it was the right thing to do. 

"It does indeed." Elspeth stood from the bed. "Your tea should almost be done. Any preferences for what I put in." 

"I would like milk and honey." I attempted to get up from the bed to follow her, but found the rest of my body was not quite ready to cooperate. "Ungh…" 

"Just relax." I sulked at her back, watching her make the tea for me. "There is only the strategy meeting later. The actual attack won't be until tomorrow." I would be recovered by then. I must. "Oh, Morrigan must be here." What the-? 

Sure enough, the door to the room opened to reveal a surprisingly worried Morrigan. The look faded for her normal smirk as soon as she saw me awake, though. "The sleeping beauty wakes at last," she said, drawing the words out. "Tis a pity. I had plotted many pranks." Hey! 

"You are a meanie," I whined. It earned me a smile. "Elspeth, how did you know she was coming?" 

"I heard footsteps, and she was the next one on the list," Elspeth answered easily. They made a _list_? "Morrigan, do you want some tea too?" 

"Ah… yes, that would be nice," Morrigan murmured. I giggled at how hesitant she was, gaining a scowl in the process. "Well, since she's awake, I intend to interrogate." What?! 

"I hope that was to me. Layla is still recovering, and should take her time doing so." I certainly did not plan on filtering through those memories until after Highever was reclaimed. "Do you want anything in your tea?" 

"Milk and honey." Elspeth giggled and Morrigan's scowl deepened. "What is so funny?" 

"It's what Layla wanted too." Elspeth brought a tray with three cups over to the nightstand by the bed and passed the cups out before sitting on the bed again. Morrigan immediately sat across from her, leaving me awkwardly in the middle. "So, what is it you wanted to ask?" 

"What _is_ this place?" That… that was a good question, actually. "A giant underground…" 

"It is an underground sanctuary, used when the castle city is too dangerous, or when there is an influx of refugees," Elspeth answered easily. I noticed she had not put anything in her tea and grimaced. Was it not too bitter otherwise? "The most prevalent theory is that it used to be a thaig." What was…? "A thaig is a dwarven settlement, Layla." No wonder I did not know. I had not read much on them. "The first record of Lowever in our history books was during the reign of Sarim Cousland, where it talks of checking the water for Taint. Everything here is checked periodically to ensure it remains a place of refuge." 

"Were there any artifacts?" Morrigan leaned forward eagerly, almost spilling her tea. "Records?" 

"Somewhere around here is where most of the library was stored, so the answer to that is likely there." Elspeth sipped her tea. I was waiting for mine to cool just a bit more. "If any items were found, they likely already made their way to Orzammar where they belong or were destroyed in one of the many battles." Morrigan sighed, actually pouting. "Is the tea not good?" 

"No, it is wonderful." She took a gulp for emphasis. I blew on mine to cool it faster. I was thirsty and wanted the bitter medicine taste out of my mouth! "I will be looking through that library when things are calmer." 

"You are more than welcome to." Elspeth turned to smile at me. "Will you want to do the same?" 

"Oh, yes!" I agreed without hesitation. A grin split my face as I imagined just lazying about a library again, reading without a care. "We can share books, debate ideas…" Oh, wait, maybe they would not… 

"That sounds most excellent," Morrigan agreed. Her eyes were sparkling. "Intelligent conversations are too few." 

"Maybe we could even discuss how silly some fictional books are, just to laugh!" This was fun. I was having fun. "There simply must be some!" 

"We have quite a few fictional books," Elspeth murmured. Her eyes danced. "There is this author from Kirkwall, Varric Tethras. He isn't well-known yet, but I just loved The Viper's Nest." 

"Let's all read and discuss it then!" I gave Morrigan my most pleading eyes until she nodded, sighing even as she smiled. "What other books?" 

It was fun planning for the future. It gave me something to keep in my head, when the path got unsteady again. 

* * *

When I was steady on my feet, Elspeth and Morrigan helped me down to the table with the map again. As soon as I was there, though, a hand touched my shoulder, and I turned to see it was Cleon. 

'I am so sorry,' he signed as soon as I faced him. His eyes were sad, his posture drooping. 'I should have secured that better. It's all my fault.' I… was amused by how similar he and Elspeth were being? I probably should not be, yet… 'Are you okay?' 

'I will be fine,' I signed back. I made sure to smile. 'It will be a bit, though. I have another person's memories in my head.' He flinched at that. 'You owe me lots of sweets and hugs.' He stared at me a moment, not sure if I was serious, before shaking his head with a smile and hugging me right then. Hee~ 

When he pulled away, though, his face was serious. 'Make sure to not suffer through it alone.' Ah… yes… 

'I won't. I promise.' I held out my pinky for a pinky sweat and he caught on immediately, doing the same. 'See? I promise,' I signed with my other hand, smiling. 

"Everything all right?" I turned again to see Elspeth had waited for us. Morrigan had joined the group by the table, needling Alistair based on the glares. Oh dear… "Do you need to rest more?" she asked, signing for Cleon. I shook my head with a smile. "Then let's join the others." Yes, let's. 

"Fergus, by all that is holy, if you don't shut up and let me strategize, I will inform the group of your first meeting with Oriana," I heard Nuada growl as we approached. He was glowering at Fergus, who looked horrified, and his signs were sharp with irritation. Um… "See if I won't. Who knows? They might make a song of it like they did Father and Mother's first meeting." 

"There is a song about how your parents met?" Leliana asked, dragging the conversation from whatever it had been before. I was curious, but it was probably best to wait to ask. Instead, I would focus on the relieved smiles everyone gave me. Well, Sten did not smile, but there seemed to be concern in his eyes, even as he studied me warily. I simply smiled, hoping it did _something_ to reassure him? "That sounds romantic." 

"It… really isn't," Elspeth replied, shaking her head as we joined the group properly. I slid in between Alistair and Wynne, and squeaked as Alistair gave me a one-armed hug. "Have you heard of the sea chantey 'The Soldier and the Seawolf'?" 

"Oh, yes, it's incredibly…" She gasped, covering her mouth as her eyes widened. "No! Those were your parents?!" 

"Mother was called the Seawolf, so you can guess who the ass of a solider was," Nuada answered. Based on his triumphant grin, I assumed Fergus had been quieted? "I think Father actually sung it while he was also trying to propose. The whole thing was awkward. Father was awkward. It's really hilarious." Noticing Cleon, he added, "I'll write down the lyrics for you later. For now…" He gestured to the map and we all leaned over it. "Now, this is going to be a two pronged attack, with contingency plans if Thomas manages to escape." 

"I'm assuming we're going with the basic 'bait' and 'main force'?" Zevran asked. At Nuada's nod, he sighed a little. "Well, let it never be said boring basics weren't effective." 

"This isn't boring." Laughter rippled through the group at Nuada's indignant tone, and I made sure to find Cleon in the group, between Morrigan and Sten, and signed out what exactly we found funny. It made him grin. "It should be quite exciting if Fergus isn't exaggerating how generous our uncle is." How many uncles did they have? What did he mean by 'generous'? Only Fergus and Elspeth seemed to have an idea. "But yes, there will be the bait force and there will be the main force. The latter will sneak into the castle through some of the hidden paths. I have individual strategies for each path." 

"How many are there?" Sten asked. He eyed the map of the castle. "Do you have escape methods, just in case?" 

"I have 'redirection' strategies, where groups will retreat and head to a different area of the castle," Nuada answered with a grin. "We're purposely choosing paths that are close to other paths for that specific reason." Sten nodded, and this time I knew I saw a small smile. "Now then, sister mine, do you mind handling the bait part?" What?! 

"I don't mind, no," Elspeth replied without hesitation. She studied the map, ignoring how Zevran and Leliana gave her odd looks. "If the numbers don't match, though, things might get messy. When are the counts coming in?" 

"Hopefully, the scouts will be back while I'm in the middle of explaining the rest of the main force strategy." 

Cleon waved his hand to catch their attention, a scowl on his face as he signed, 'Are we getting an explanation?' 

"You will as soon as I have final numbers for the intended distraction," Nuada answered with a giant, even boyish, grin, hands practically flying with the signs. "It'll be easier to explain the final plan when I do." Cleon nodded, accepting that. "But if anyone gets seasick, tell me now. It's… kind of important." Why would that be…? Wait, were we really…? 

Oh, things were going to be very, very strange tomorrow. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: And now Layla is an Arcane Warrior and it's confirmed she's elfblooded. It's been statedthat the elven genome's adaptivity is due more to magic than science, so I'm not making that up. If you're curious about her birth-father (yes, I have it written down), simply ask. I will answer.   
>  Not making up the Soldier and Seawolf thing. That is an actual thing, revealed through World of Thedas volume 2, and I find it hilarious. The Viper's Nest is one of Varric's novels, according to World of Thedas, and was published in 9:23. The same book mentions that Hard in Hightown (published 9:33) was his 'breakthrough' work, though, so I'm assuming he's still a lesser known author during Origins (since it takes place during 9:30). 
> 
> Next Chapter: The Battle for Highever begins with Aiden 


	58. Chapter 50) Siren's Call

Chapter 50) Siren's Call 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_I coughed as the smell of rotten fish slammed into my face. I hated coming down to the docks. I really did._

_"Candidus!" I called, making my way through the crowd. "Candidus!"_

_"Oh, Aiden!" Candidus called back, waving from his seat. He was in the middle of cleaning the side of a ship. "Everything all right?"_

_I headed to the edge of the docks, hoping I wouldn't fall in. "You almost done? Your wife needs you for something."_

_"Just about done with my shift, yeah." He nodded, smiling. "Just need to finish this up."_

_"I'll wait, then." And try to not fall and drown._

* * *

I was on a ship. I was on a ship. I was _on a ship_ over _water_ and I still couldn't figure out how this happened. 

"Sten?" Blinking slowly, I dragged myself out of my thoughts and concentrated on the others. Which included Lady Elspeth, dangling upside down on whatever that center post of the ship was called, pointing to something. "Can you hand me that?" she asked, as if requesting a cup of tea. "I didn't think I'd need it when I climbed up." 

"This?" Sten asked, picking up something I couldn't recognize. "Is there something wrong with the sails?" 

"It's nothing too bad, but I would like to tend to it now before it worsens." He passed it up with an approving nod and she slung herself right-side-up before climbing even higher. I tried not to gawk at the height. "Thank you, Sten. Zevran, demonstrate how good you are with your hands and hold this down." 

"My dear lady, you should not tempt me so!" Zevran laughed. He was up in the air too, also not unbothered by the height. I thought them all insane. "Lest I give you a private performance." 

"I'm sure Aiden would like it better." Hey! "There we go." And they both jumped down. I tried not to wince at the loud thuds. "How goes the horizon?" 

"All is well, and there have been no unexpected delays," Sten reported easily. He glanced at me, eyes narrowed. "You should be standing and watching, not hiding in a corner." 

"Excuse me for not being a fish in the water," I immediately snapped, sighing as I pushed myself up. I had _liked_ my little corner. "Lady Elspeth, will you remind me how I got to be on a ship again?" 

"You volunteered, focusing on the cannon part of the plan," she answered easily. I sighed, wondering where my sense went. "Here." She pulled a little candy from her pack and passed it over. "Ginger is good for nausea." I instantly popped it into my mouth, actually enjoying how it burned. It gave me something to focus on. "Is that a bit better?" 

"A bit, yes, my lady." She smiled slighty, and I took a deep breath. "For the record, if something happens to the ship, are there… ways to avoid drowning?" 

"Stay close to someone who can swim?" That didn't make me feel better at all. "Sten, do the qunari have tricks for when their ships sink?" 

"Qunari dreadnoughts do not sink," Sten replied instantly. I almost thought he found the idea funny. Either they survive, or they detonate to distract the enemy and alert the others of the danger." …Qunari really took the whole 'sacrifice the one for the many' thing too seriously for me. "But swimming is something all are taught before taking to the sea. If the painted elf there can also swim, we can make up for Aiden's deficiency." 

"I apologize that my lack of time and confinement to an Alienage made it difficult for me to learn the supposedly basic skill of swimming," I deadpanned, not even caring. Though Lady Elspeth looked sad, Sten smiled approvingly. He really liked it when we stood our grounds, it seemed. "Regardless, now that I can actually think a little, how are ships and one of your uncles connected?" 

"Mother was originally from the Storm Coast," Lady Elspeth answered. A particularly large wave rocked the boat, and both she and Sten helped me keep steady. "So, Fergus asked for assistance. Our uncle spared no expense." Oh, we were talking about a blood related uncle for once. Also, why was Zevran quiet? He was just staring out over the water. "They're good ships. They're similar to the models Mother used for raiding." Ah, I seeee… wait, what? "I take it you have not heard much of the stories behind the Seawolf, though you know the chantey." That chantey was hilarious. I hadn't known it was about real people until the strategy meeting. "She never wanted us to know, but someone in Orlais recognized how her ship, the Mistral, sank his warship and declared a duel. It was quite messy. We learned Mother was an accomplished archer that day as well." She shrugged at my disbelieving stare. "So, we're doing quite nicely, and Zevran is unusually quiet." Glad I wasn't the only one who thought that. "Zevran, is all well?" 

"Ships are blooming at horizon's edge," Zevran answered, making his voice purposely dramatic as he leaned on the railing. I admired his courage. "Remind me again why there are only the four of us on this ship? Typically, ships have a greater crew." 

"Our ship is smaller than the others, sacrificing firepower for maneuverability. Due to how it's built, Aiden and Sten can man the cannons while you and I navigate." She headed to the railing too, and I followed reluctantly after Sten's stern look. All I could think was how a heavy, wooden, flammable ship was all that was keeping me from plunging into the far too dark water below. "The others are not like that, so they have greater numbers." Using the railing, she lifted herself up and leaned forward, almost dangling. "Oh, good, they haven't sent them all out. We'll have ships by the end of this." Yay? Well, ships would be useful if we had to evacuate the country? …Oh, that was a grim thought. I didn't want it. 

"Do they not know how to sail?" Sten asked. He was scowling, and I thought he sounded disgusted. "There is little coordination between the ships. It's like children playing without rules." 

"Amaranthine ships are much different than Highever ships," Lady Elspeth explained. Tired of feeling nervy, I grabbed the back of her armor and tugged until she was standing with two feet on the docks again. "I'm sure they've figured out how to fire, but we should still have the advantage." Good. I'd hate to be out here and be in a lot of trouble. "Zevran, you're frowning." 

"Is it not alluring?" Zevran cracked. Still, his eyes were serious and the frown didn't disappear. "That ship there, with all the cannons pointed at it." He pointed for emphasis and I noticed something else. The ship looked significantly different from the others. "I think that's the Siren's Call." Ships… had names? 

"Is she not part of the Felicisima Armada?" Lady Elspeth asked. I just tried to figure out why ships had genders. And what this 'armada' was. "That is strange. It does not seem likely that Howe would hire them." 

"And unless Isabela somehow lost her ship, I doubt she would do business with him." He shook his head. "She's a raider, yes, but she has lines she will not cross." 

"Not even for coin?" Sten asked, voice even more deadpanned than usual. He didn't look impressed with the ship, or conversation. 

"I highly doubt Fereldan has enough money in all its coffers to drag any raider into a war, much less Isabela," Zevran answered easily. He turned to me. "Would it be too much trouble to see if we can talk to her?" Why was he… right, leader. Yeah, no, I had a line. 

"Ask my lady," I replied, pointing to her. She blinked slowly, like I'd caught her off guard. For once. "I'm too busy trying to not be seasick to lead, so whenever we're on boats, just assume she's in charge." 

"Well, I can't say I don't mind having a woman over me." Ah, if only we were on land. I would've laughed. "Then, Captain Elspeth." Lady Elspeth turned her blank stare to him. "What do you think?" 

"…It would be good to save in ammunition," she replied slowly, face softening as her eyes sparked with ideas. "Having the favor of a pirate would also be useful, yes?" Pirates, raider… wait, hold on, I remember hearing rumors of some group called 'Raiders of the Waking Sea'. Was _that_ what the Felicisima Armada was? "Let's bring her alongside, and see if we can work a deal then." Sten looked ready to protest, but Lady Elspeth gave him a look. "Trust me, please. I am merely thinking of what is best to take care of all the soldiers." He sighed, but nodded. "Thank you, Sten. I'll be counting on you when the fighting starts." He nodded again, and this time I thought him more pleased. "Zevran, let's go." 

It honestly astounded me how quickly, and easily, Zevran and Lady Elspeth got the ship to ride close to the 'Siren's Call'. Of course, it quickly turned to shock as a bright laugh rippled through the air. "I thought there was Antivan leather on the wind!" A woman wearing tight clothes that bared her legs and chest leaned against the railing. I noticed her skin was darker than Duncan's, and was set off by the numerous gold jewelry she was wearing. "Zevran, you scoundrel, what are you doing here? Assassins don't play naval battles." 

"I have achieved enlightenment, dear Isabela!" Zevran replied without missing a beat. He jumped to my side and gestured. "I am now in service of this handsome warrior sex god." Thank you, darker skin, for hiding how red my face likely got. 

"Mmm, he is lovely on the eyes. I can see the rippling muscles even under the armor." Was she Antivan? "So, he's your captain?" 

"No, that would be me." Lady Elspeth stepped up, leaning against the railing. I noticed her hands tremble, even though her face was calm. "I am Elspeth, Lady of Highever, and it seems to me, Captain Isabela, that you are in the company of my enemies. That isn't a very wise place to be." 

"Oh, fantastic! A pretty girl taking command!" Isabela laughed. I focused behind her, to the others on the boat, and thought them looking stiff. "Well, while I never claim to be wise, I can't say I like being among your enemies either, sweetie. Unfortunately, I'm a little stuck." Yeah, the cannons did a thing. I wondered why they weren't trying to attack _us_. Were they more afraid of Isabela? Or… wait, I couldn't even _see_ people on the other ships! "See, some of my crew ended up caught, and the piece of shit lord here gave me an ultimatum. Guard the seas or they die. I agreed to the former, thinking I could split, but the cannons are a problem." 

"I suppose, but right now, you are caught in the middle of two armies." Lady Elspeth smiled sweetly. "In exchange for a couple of favors in the future, I can send a message to mine to let you pass unimpeded." 

"Hmm…" Isabela's eyes narrowed. I glanced around our own ship and saw Zevran still next to me, and Sten already at one of the cannons, ready for the fight, and out of sight. Expecting the worst? "Well, I hate being indebted, but I think I hate getting caught up in the fighting more, especially since I'm supposed to be escorting some of Castillon's cargo right now. Consider it a deal." 

"I thank you dearly." Lady Elspeth's sweet smile softened. "Please, give my regards to him. If he does not remember, tell him I am the girl behind the blood incident." …The what? 

"Oh, that was you? Clever!" Isabela laughed and rocked back on her heels. I just tried to figure out WHAT THEY MEANT! I'd need to ask Lord Nuada. "I'll give Zevran a signal when we're ready to bolt." 

"Then I shall give the message to the others. It has been a pleasure, Captain." 

"That it has, Lady." Isabela disappeared from the railing. 

Lady Elspeth promptly collapsed. I knelt down next to her, noticing how pale she was. "Oh, Maker, that was so terrifying," she whispered. Her voice shook. Zevran hovered worriedly, but I signed for him to go to the navigation, and he did without a word. "Did I do okay?" 

"Yeah, I think so," I murmured gently. She gave me a wan smile. "Need anything?" 

"You and Sten to get ready to fight." 

"I meant for you." I held up a hand to cut off her protest. "You did your duty. Mine, as leader, is to at least _try_ and make sure you're okay." She smiled wryly. "So?" 

"…If it isn't too much trouble, I would like a hug." I gave it freely, without hesitating, and some part of me was startled at how easily I hugged a noble. "Thank you, truly." She did look a little better when she pulled away. "Now, cannons." 

"Aye, aye, captain." We both burst into quiet laughter before standing up and going our separate ways. She, to Zevran, and I, to Sten. Without a word, Sten showed me immediately how to use the things, arming and whatnot. Maybe Layla should have been here instead. Magic on the seas seemed like it would be potent. But she had wanted to stay with the larger group, since we didn't know if that ghost would have more consequences. …I was still horribly annoyed neither Cleon nor Lady Elspeth had told me, but I'd let it slide. This time. 

It felt like I had just gotten settled when the signal apparently went up, and Elspeth and Zevran were twisting the ship into the hole in the formation, left behind as the Siren's Call broke free to safer waters. I took a breath to settle my nerves, reminded myself that if something went wrong, I had three very skilled people ready to help, and lit the fuse for the cannon. I covered my ears to protect them from the explosion and watched as the cannonball punched right through the hull of an enemy ship. 

I glanced up at the castle as the sea battle began in earnest, Lady Elspeth coordinating the ships. We had their attention. Now it was up to the rest to wipe out the inner group. 

We could do this. We survived Ostagar. We survived demons and werewolves. Humans? Humans weren't so scary. Even if we were basically floating on a deathtrap. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Naval battle, with Aiden being the only one who hasn't been on a ship. And, since there's a battle on the sea, why not bring in the favorite pirate? (Eleanor being originally of Storm Coast, and her prowess during the war, was revealed in World of Thedas, volume 2)   
>  Next Chapter – Highever Castle with Nuada 


	59. Chapter 51) Highever Castle

Chapter 51) Highever Castle 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_"Look, Nuada!" Fergus whispered excitedly in my ear. "Look up to the horizon!" Blinking slowly, I did as he asked and tilted my head. It was a castle. It was another stone castle, old and simple. What was so exciting about that? "That's home, Nuada." This was Highever Castle? This was the 'home' everyone had longed for? "We're finally home, Nuada." It was another strange place. The only difference was that we were supposedly staying there. This was where we 'lived', here in Fereldan._

_Still, I smiled up at Fergus, not wanting him to see anything less, and he took the smile as agreement with his joy. That made things easier._

* * *

"Michalis, take your group down the western corridor and provide cover for Charles's squad. Sarra, charge through the north to take attention off Bran's group." People scattered at my words and others jumped up to receive their orders or to give reports. It was constant chaos and I was the sole bit of calm within it. Well, it would be more accurate to say I was the sole bit of _order_. Nothing about this was calm. 

A flicker of movement on my left made me turn and I saw Cleon jump down from whatever perch he'd been on. Quickly, he signed out enemy movements, adding, 'Took out the northern leader in an ambush. Leliana sniped one of the enemy generals in the south. They are chaotic, and desperate, refusing to surrender.' Of course they weren't. Still, I was glad I'd decided to put Cleon on this. He couldn't be on the frontlines, his lack of hearing was too much of a detriment, but his sight was still fantastic, and he was still skilled at ambushes. Maybe he should coordinate with Zevran to learn actual assassination skills. 'What do you want me to do?' 

'Make sure-' I began to sign. A yell behind me made me whirl, Cleon following suit just a second later. I wasn't sure who yelled, but I saw _why_. Three Amaranthine soldiers had broken through the back lines, straight to where Layla was tending to soldiers on the field. One soldier was decapitated by my shield. Cleon threw his dagger into the back of the second one's neck. 

The third, surprisingly, had their arm caught, and _held_ , by Layla. As Cleon and I pushed towards her, glancing at each other to make sure we weren't just seeing things, I saw her eyes turn a strange silver-purple, and a glowing pattern of vines and flowers twist up her neck and right side of her face. 

She shoved the soldier back, cold glare on her face, and she picked up a fallen sword and swung it. I had no idea if I should be more startled that she _easily_ sliced the man in half, armor and all, or more appalled at just how _bad_ her handling was. 

"Oh, hello," she greeted Cleon and me, smiling far too brightly. She let the sword clatter to the ground to sign for Cleon. I noticed she could not move her right hand. "I do _not_ like having another person's memories in my head!" Her eyes slowly turned to their normal brown, the vine-like markings receding. "I also shall be sick, later." I nodded, accepting that. "I think I broke something, though." She glanced at her hand. "How did I do that?" 

"It's called improper handling of a sword," I deadpanned. I realized how that could be taken, and started snickering, unable to help it. Cleon did the same, shoulders shaking as he covered his mouth, and Layla stared in confusion. "You had a really bad grip and were really just jerking about…" I needed to shut up. "Cleon, you tell her. I'm just making it worse without even trying." 

Cleon, still shaking, kindly signed out for me, 'you had improper posture, and thus broke your wrist because swords are heavy. Nuada, there, is killing me with accidental innuendos.' 

"What are you…?" she began. Her face instantly flushed as she got it. "Nuada!" She batted me on the shoulder before healing up her wrist. "How is the strategy going? Wynne says there's far less wounded than you anticipated." That was a small miracle there. "Morrigan reports that the naval battle is going well." I was so glad I had Morrigan watching outside while she made sure Fergus didn't blow himself up. 

"There have been a few hiccups, but lots of tiny ones are much better than one _giant_ one," I answered, finally managing to calm down. Still, this tiny one was going to be big if I didn't catch it _now_. "Layla, fall back a bit since this area has been compromised. _Please_ just use normal spells if you can help it until we actually train you up on swords." She nodded, smiling warmly before racing off. I smiled back before turning to Cleon. "Cleon, for now, direct Leliana to take care of the western, and then take care of the east. Afterwards, go to Fergus and Morrigan to assist them. Come back to me the _second_ something changes outside with the water." Cleon nodded, smiled at me wryly as he gave me a sarcastic salute, and quickly disappeared into the shadows. 

"Lord Nuada!" I turned as a soldier called my name, and felt my smile grow at their giant grin. "Just broke through!" they reported. "Orders!" 

"Press forward!" To emphasize my words, I started running for the front. "Push them out! Send them scattering into the hallways to be picked off by the others!" 

It wasn't until I was inside the room, adapting to the new setting and preparing new orders, that I realized just what this room _was_. We were right in front of the main doors. This was where… this was where I had last seen Father, where I had last seen Mother. This was where I had said goodbye to Rory, and joked about owing him some pints. This was where Highever fell before. 

But here I was, weeks later, seizing it once more. I didn't have to run away this time. I was stronger. I had friends, who were stronger than anything, who I could actually _trust_. I had loyal soldiers, ready for the good fight. This time… this time, there would be no retreat. 

"My lord!" I glanced over at the panting soldier. "The south…" they managed to get out. I nodded, showing I understood the rest, and they smiled gratefully when I passed them my canteen of water. The south… I needed someone I could trust there, someone the soldiers would listen to… 

"Alistair!" I called, after a moment's thought. It didn't take long at all for him to appear in front of me. There was a gash on his cheek, but he still managed to smile with good-humor. "I need you to lead a squad directly." 

"What?" he replied, gaping. He shook his head and I had to resist the urge to grit my teeth. "Nuada, I can't lead! I'm an idiot and…" He trailed off suddenly, looking around. I watched him in confusion, wondering what was going on. "No, never mind. Forget I said any of that." He faced me again, and I was taken aback from how his eyes blazed with determination. If I hadn't already known he was Uncle Maric's son, I would've guessed it right now. It was the same exact look when Uncle Maric had prepared himself to do the impossible, and succeed with flying colors. "What do you need?" 

"There are soldiers to the south that are desperate and disorganized." I kept my voice calm, words even. He nodded. "I need them shut down. It's your discretion on how to do that, though I will be most vexed if you die, so avoid that." 

"Oh, I'm too stupid to die. Just ask Morrigan." That got me laughing. "Just take whoever or-" 

"Take whoever you think will work best. Getting them to not destroy the back lines is more important." 

"All right." He gave me a reassuring grin and a little salute before heading off, shouting out names. I was… actually pretty impressed at how quickly he'd learned their names. 

But that was something for another day. I looked at where the new holes in the lines were and shouted orders to adjust for them as Alistair and his group headed south. Now, I expected two things from here, so it was probably close to time to see which one was… 

"Nuada!" There was Leliana, sliding on some blood as she ran to me. "Western general sniped," she told me breathlessly. I nodded, knowing that wasn't the reason she'd been sprinting. "Thomas, however, seems to be using the battle as a distraction to escape." So, it would be that one. Sadly, it didn't surprise me at all that Thomas would run. He'd always been quick on his feet. "What do you want me to do?" 

Before I could answer, Cleon appeared, signing even before he stopped in front of me. 'Naval battle won. Our soldiers are coming in as reinforcements. Aiden and Sten are following the original plan.' Good, as I'd kept that in my head while plotting the rest. 'Alistair handling the south nicely.' Good. 'Caught what Leliana reported as I ran up. What do we need to do?' 

That was the rub. I closed my eyes to think carefully before nodding. "Find Zevran and Elspeth, and then you four chase after Thomas," I ordered, signing carefully to make sure there would be no misunderstandings. They were the fastest, and Elspeth would know what needed to be done once they caught him. This would be fine. "Go, quickly." They both nodded and disappeared into the chaos. 

I returned my attention to the battle, feeling a grin split my face. 

Father… Mother… Everyone… just watch. We'll win this, reclaim the castle, and then you can rest easy as we save Fereldan. So, just watch us. Watch how strong we've all become. Okay? 

* * *

Author's Note: Another battle in Highever Castle, this one turning out MUCH better than the first. Signs of character development, Arcane Warrior shows… not much else? 

Next Chapter – Chasing Thomas with Cleon 


	60. Chapter 52) High Liberation

Chapter 52) High Liberation 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_The wind in my hair, the sounds of the leaves rustling as I passed… truly, nothing beat it as I rushed through the trees, keeping one eye on my quarry below. A bear had gotten too close to the camp, so it was the job of hunters to lead her away, and show her where there was other food for her cubs._

_A crash and a yelp caught my ear and I glanced over to see Tamlen had fallen. I paused in my run and looked down, but upon seeing him stand up with nothing worse than bruises, I laughed and continued on my hunt._

_I'd tease him later. I had a job for now._

* * *

The four of us were the fastest, but as we chased after Thomas, I could tell the differences between the four of us easily. Zevran constantly had to slow himself down, as I was the best at tracking, yet he easily outpaced all of us. Elspeth was the slowest, no doubt because of her slight limp, but I recalled that punch of hers way back when we saw the Archdemon after Ostagar. I'd be willing to bet she was the strongest of us four, or that she would compensate by becoming it soon. 

I did wonder why Nuada had her come with us, though. I would've thought he'd want her with him and Fergus when the castle was free. Or come himself to see Thomas die. Whatever. I'd ask later. 

Movement caught my eye and I slid to a stop as Zevran jumped in front of me, Leliana and Elspeth slowing as I did. He made sure he had my eye before signing, 'we are making too much noise.' I winced as I realized that was likely the case, and remembered why I couldn't notice. 'Cleon, how far are we?' 

I glanced at the tracks in the ground, and signed, 'not far. These look very fresh.' They'd gone into a nearby forest, likely hoping it would hide them. Idiots. They'd be making so much noise a da'len could find them. 

'Then let's slow a little, so we can ambush.' Right. That would be better for many, many reasons. I couldn't fight on the frontlines like I used to. Too dangerous. 'Suggestions for ambushing?' 

Leliana waved her hand for attention, signed only when she had it. 'Zevran and I can go one way, while Cleon and Elspeth head another. We can catch them in a pincer.' I bit my lip in thought before nodding. With us four, that would be the best way. 'Then we'll go ahead and catch them.' Leaving me, who couldn't hear, and Elspeth, who had a limp and might not be able to move as quietly as needed to bring up the rear. Clever, even if it annoyed me. 

'Are you all right?' The gentle hand motions brought my attention to Elspeth as those two ran off. 'You look annoyed,' she signed. She pointed to the space between her eyebrows for emphasis and I automatically tried to hide it. She covered her smile, and likely giggles, with her hand. 

'I suppose I am a little,' I signed back after a moment. I frowned as I studied her, though. 'You, however, look pale.' I prodded her cheek, grinning as she made a face and batted my hand away, before signing again, 'are you all right?' 

'I am fine.' Her signing was sharp and certain. Combined with her setting her jaw and her slight scowl, it was obvious she would refuse to elaborate. All right. No need to tire out my hands, then. Just hoped she'd tell me later. 

'Off we go, then.' And we were back to running. I kept one eye on her as I followed the trail, since she was significantly slower. I thought about making a joke, but decided not to. Because punching, and the more we ran, the darker her expression got. 

As we entered the forest properly, I signaled for us to go off the trail. I glanced up, and saw how tall and sturdy the trees were, just like the ones in the other forest. 'Ready for advanced tree walking lessons?' I signed to her, grinning a bit. She eyes the branches above us dubiously. 'Trust me.' 

'I wish I didn't right now.' Her signing was a little shaking, and I pat her shoulder reassuringly. 'Following you.' 

Without another sign, I swung up into the higher branches, the slight shaking telling me Elspeth was climbing too. I waited until she was on the branch below me before taking off for the path. I didn't pay attention to tracks anymore, but rather the swaying of the trees ahead. 

It was really different, hunting without hearing. But, surprisingly, not as much as I'd expect. 

A slight spark from metal hitting metal caught my eye and I shifted the branch-path to head towards it. The branches wobbled a lot more when Elspeth stepped on them, but I couldn't quite fault her for that. Yet. Next time, for sure. 

I crouched as movement below held my attention. It didn't take long at all to figure out they were the enemy. Zevran was bouncing around, acting like an agent of Fen'harel to sow confusion, while Leliana aimed her arrows. I hunted for her in the branches and found her across the path. I sharply brought my hand up, counting on the fast movement to catch her attention, and smiled when it did. She smiled back, before returning to her aiming. 

The branch wobbled, and I twisted as Elspeth crouched next to me. She was frowning as she watched below, before pointing out a youth with long black hair and fine armor that looked unused. 'That is Thomas,' she signed carefully. 'Deal with his guards first.' Wouldn't it be smarter to just- 'Trust me.' …Fen'harel's teeth, I couldn't not, especially when I'd used that same phrase to get her up into the trees. 

'Got it,' I signed back. She smiled slightly. 'Down, I go.' Literally. I jumped down, slamming my daggers into a guard's skull before twisting and kicking another one's throat to collapse the windpipe. 

Clunky and inefficient. I really needed to get better at this. And fighting shemlen, and elves, in general. 

Still, between arrows, daggers, and quick movements, we had the guards dead within record time, Thomas backed against a tree, already shaking. 

His eyes, however, lit up as Elspeth dropped down from the trees next to me, and could read his lips enough to understand what he was saying. 'Elspeth.' And that's when I remembered. She'd once called Howe 'uncle'. She had to know Thomas. Maybe not friends, but she had to have known him for a long while. And we were about to kill him. In cold blood, basically. Not that it was anything different than what Howe did to the Couslands, but still. 

Leliana and Zevran stepped forward, and Thomas seemed to yell in fright. He certainly flinched back, at least. But as Leliana and Zevran drew their weapons, something made them pause. It wasn't until they turned to stare at Elspeth that I realized she must've said something. 

When I looked at her, I saw her bow was out, and she had an arrow already out. Was she…? 'I can do it,' I signed quickly. Her eyes darted towards me, but all I could focus on was how pale she was. 'Or Leliana, or Zevran.' She shifted her arrow to her other hand to free up one for signing. 'Really, we can-' 

She brought her hand up sharply, to make me stop signing. When she saw I had, she signed, carefully and deliberately, 'No.' Her eyes flicked over to Thomas, shaking and cowering. 'No, it _must_ be me.' She signed must twice, to emphasize it I guessed. 'If Zevran did it, then Howe can shift blame to another noble, citing they hired a Crow to do it.' Despite how pale she was, her eyes were stubborn. There was no hesitation in her, and I realized she'd known this from the start. _This_ was why Nuada had her come, and she'd known it. Yay, twins. …I missed Lyna. How was she? …Not the time. 'If Leliana did it, then their have evidence for their story of Orlesian invasion.' Leliana winced and nodded, confirming and accepting that reasoning. 'You cannot do it, as they'd use it as an excuse to go after the Dalish.' I grit my teeth. She was right. 'I, however, am a Cousland.' She hesitated on her last name, before using the signs for protector and land. I got the meaning. I think. Considering how often Nuada and her used that phrase as an explanation, I'd be surprised if it didn't turn up. 'This man is a usurper of my land. His execution, by my hand, is justice by Fereldan law.' She had a little wry smile as she signed the rest, 'There is a bit of vengeance too, but I am the calmest of us three siblings. I can keep my head and make it quick and clean. Nuada and Fergus do not trust themselves to do the same.' 

'You three know each other well.' I really couldn't think of any other reply. 

'We were all each other had for a long, long time.' Her smile became warm. 'Now, though, we have lots of friends and people we can trust. We are still learning how, so I beg your forgiveness for future bouts of idiocy, like not warning about Zevran properly.' Ha! 

'I reserve the right to complain anyway.' She grinned, actually grinned, but then it faded as she focused again on Thomas. This was it. 

Thomas's eyes were wide and he shook even more as Elspeth drew the arrow and aimed. He screamed something, fingers digging into the dirt even as the rest of him shook. His face was pale enough for me to pick out all the veins in his face, made more noticeable by the sweat dripping down his face. His chest heaved with frantic breaths and he screamed again, something that made Leliana turn away, flincing, and Zevran wince and pale, face tightening in pain. 

But whatever it was had no effect on Elspeth. With a face like stone, she fired the arrow and it thudded into Thomas's head, right between the eyes, with enough force to jerk it back. The tree actually rustled from the impact. Yes, I'd call her the strongest of us four. Easily. 

I held up a hand as Elspeth brought down the bow. 'What did he say?' I signed, curious. I thought of asking Leliana and Zevran, but both of them looked too lost in their thoughts. Hurtful thoughts, based on their eyes. 

She stared at me a moment before smiling wryly. 'He said he had always loved me,' she signed, hands not even trembling. I felt my thoughts clunk and stumble a bit in my head. Wha…? 'Lying until the end.' Was it one, though? A lie, I mean. He didn't look like the type to be crafty while afraid. Then again, what did I know about shemlen? 'I need to carry him back.' I thought about offering to do it, but figured it was another thing she felt she had to do herself. 

So, instead, I simply nodded and helped her get the corpse on her back, ripping the arrow out to make it easier after I confirmed he wasn't breathing. She didn't comment on the blood dribbling onto her neck. 

Leliana stepped up to help Elspeth keep her balance as she led the walk back to the castle. Zevran remained where he was, staring at the spot, looking very, very far away. I waited with him, not wanting to leave him alone while he was lost in his head. 

It didn't take him long to shake whatever he was seeing out of his head, but he didn't even try to fake a smile when he saw me. 'I don't think he was lying,' he signed, hands not quite as graceful as usual. 'I saw what she signed, but I don't think she's right. His feelings… were genuine.' 

'Still a poor time to reveal them, considering everything his family has done to hers,' I signed back. He broke into a bitter smile, shoulders hitching forward slightly as a short laugh escaped. 'And what he's done to Highever.' 

'Yes, and those are undeniable proof, and not something simply told and forged.' I… had a feeling there was something going on that I knew nothing about. Again. 

So, I smiled, making my hand movements light and a little bouncy. 'To change the subject, though, might I ask a favor?' He eyed me curious. 'Teach me.' The curiosity changed to shock. 'I am skilled, but my way of fighting is no longer suited to me. I need another base to work from. I think yours will fit.' He kept his hands up, ready to sign, but they remained still as he thought. 'I will not force you, of course, but…' I broke off signing to shrug, to signify I had no more words to try and explain. 

He still waited a bit more before signing. 'But you're right. You must ambush, and an assassin's trick suits that nicely.' He hesitated a bit more before nodding decisively. 'Yes, I will teach you. But!' He gestured sharply, making it an explanation, and he grinned, bad mood gone. Or, at least, hidden by a mask. 'We must not tell the Crows. Lots of trouble, very bad.' 

I grinned and nodded. 'Yeah, sounds good.' 

'Excellent. We'll get started as we follow the lovely ladies who didn't wait!' A quick glanced showed that, indeed, we were left behind. 'Let us chase!' 

'Race you.' Even though I knew I would lose, and he knew it too, we bolted into a run. And it was on that run that I realized something. 

We just liberated Highever. We saved something we had to abandon. We found victory where they had been defeat before. Maybe, just maybe, we could do the same with the Blight and Ostagar too? No, not even a maybe. 

We absolutely would. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And Highever is liberated! Yay! And our Wardens are starting to pick up their second specializations, as originally indicated by Layla picking up Arcane Warrior. Fun fact: the heraldry for Amaranthine features a bear.   
>  Thomas's confession is stemmed from what Howe will tell a female!Cousland during the Human Noble Origin. While he's most likely lying (Awakening proved he was with a Male!Cousland and Delilah), I thought it would be fun to… well… have it. As for why Leliana and Zevran winced? Remember their backstories. Especially Zevran's. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Aftermath with Layla, wrapping up this little arc 


	61. Chapter 53) Lost Soldier

Chapter 53) Lost Soldiers 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_He was dressed in full armor. I noticed that, as I was led up to pay my respects to the templar who died in the line of duty. An apprentice had lost control and become an abomination, and the templar on duty had rushed to the scene, killing the abomination and taking a fatal wound in the process. He and the mage had been the only fatalities._

_I remembered he always gave sweets to the apprentices who looked like they were about to cry. He'd been a kind man. I wondered at those who had been left behind, though. I felt sad, so what about his friends?_

_Did they feel lost, looking at the body? I kind of did._

* * *

"Easy, you'll feel better soon," I murmured, casting a healing spell. I ignored how the soldier I was treating had Amaranthine armor. A small part of me protested, wanting me to not help the people who had been involved in attacking Highver, but I shoved it to the side. It was childish, and wrong. There were enough lost soldiers, thank you very much. 

It did not escape me, though, as I finished healing up the soldier, that only those in our group were treating the Amaranthine soldiers. Those of Highever ignored them. I couldn't blame them, really. They had suffered far more directly, and a single victory wasn't going to make the scars go away. The dead were still dead. 

Sighing, I pushed myself up, stretching my arms over my head with a little squeak. As I relaxed, I looked around the part of the courtyard we had marked off as the 'infirmary'. Cleon was working with Morrigan not far away, with Morrigan signing things and Cleon keeping the injured calm as Morrigan muttered curses under her breath, hands steady and gentle as she treated them. Wynne, of course, was tending to the most wounded, as she had the most experience. Elspeth… oh, Elspeth had moved to the edge of the area to talk to Alistair. They were too far away for me to hear, but I giggled as I saw Alistair brandish a rose like a sword before passing it to her. Whatever he said actually seemed to make her flush. At least, I thought her cheeks were pink under the smeared blood, dirt, and sweat on her face. The sight reminded me that I need to clean up too. Otherwise, there was a chance I would spread an infection to other wounded. 

I made my way to the watering bucket that was constantly being changed and checked, and looked beyond the area. Leliana and Zevran were helping some wounded soldiers move to another part of the courtyard to free up space. Aiden was moving some corpses to the growing line stretching from the gates of Castle Cousland to… wherever in the city the end was. Each was being tended to and prepared, individually, as thanks for the sacrifice they made. 

As I washed up, I glanced up to see Elspeth had returned to tending to the injured, a beautiful white rose tucked into her braid, and Alistair was back to helping Aiden. However, as I toweled myself off, I noticed Nuada was not anywhere around. Where did he go? 

"Wynne?" I called, waving until I caught her attention. "I am taking a break!" Wynne nodded before returning to what she was doing. I think she was repairing a hole in a soldier's heart. 

Smiling to people as I passed, I made my way inside the castle, reaching up to undo my braided bun and just relax as my hair fell down my back. It helped calm me as I walked through the still bloodstained hallways. It had been a day since Highever was liberated, but everyone was still so busy trying to keep people alive that no one had time to clean. They barely had time to drag out all the bodies. 

I winced as the hallway suddenly flickered, and for a split second, I did not see the halls of Castle Cousland, but some entirely different place, with shining walls dulled by dripping blood. I shook my head sharply, sighing as I started up a staircase. Maybe I could find Nuada from up high or something? Regardless, I was getting tired of the random memories that were not mine intruding on my thoughts. If I sat down and wrote down everything, would they stop bothering me so much? 

I reached the top of the staircase and realized I was in a little tower, and Nuada was at the lone window of this tower, sipping a glass of what looked to be wine. There was another glass resting on the windowsill, completely untouched. 

"Nuada?" I called softly. He twisted to face me, giving me a curious look. "I am sorry. I did not see you outside." 

"Yeah, Aiden ordered me to take a break when he learned from Fergus I didn't sleep last night," he answered easily. I felt my own eyes narrow in a scowl and he smiled slightly. "A single night without rest isn't going to hurt me." I begged to differ, especially since I knew he did not really care about what happened to him if he could do his job. "But it seemed like a good time to have a drink with Rory." Who was…? "I am sorry. You know him as 'Ser Gilmore'." Oh, he meant that kind knight that… died… Oh. "This was his favorite spot in the whole castle, so it seemed like a good place." That was why the other was untouched. "He never had good taste in wine, though. This type was his favorite." Yet he was drinking it anyway. 

"Did you know him long?" Was it okay to ask? 

"He was the first friend Elspeth and I had when we returned to Highever after the long diplomatic trip." He leaned against the edge of the window, gazing out the window and not looking at me as he continued to drink. "Though, when I saw 'return', I use it loosely. Elspeth and I had no memories of the place." He laughed softly, smiling sadly. I wondered if he wanted to cry. "I swear; he got a crush on her right then and there, but of course, she never noticed." He took another sip. "So, I would say I knew him for a while. It's been about eight years, I think? It might be a bit more or less." A-ah… 

"Are you all right?" What was I saying? Of course, he was not, and of course, he would not give me a straight answer about it. "Um, hold on." I started for him, so that it was a little easier to convey what I was talking about. "Let me just…" 

"Wait, there's a loose stone there!" Of course, I had already started moving, and hit the loose step to trip and start falling. Nuada managed to catch me, though, in a flurry of movement that I left me a little dazed. "Are you all right? Your ankle turned weirdly." 

"I think so." He did not even spill his wine! How did that happen? "Let us see…" Cautiously, I used him as a balance to check my ankle's movement. "There is a twinge of pain, so I definitely rolled it, but it should be fine." I glanced up and smiled brightly. "Thank you very…" I trailed off as I suddenly realized just how close I was to him. 

My hand was braced against his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat increase under my fingertips as we continued to stare at each other. The pulse matched my own, sending blood roaring to my ears and face, making them burn. He was close enough for our noses to brush, and I could feel his warm breath fan my face as I noticed his eyes slowly darkening. My breath hitched as he leaned forward, just a little. I think he leaned in. I wanted… 

In the blink of an eye, though, Nuada was back by the window and I was standing alone, a little dazed and disoriented again, but for entirely different reasons. 

"To answer your question…" Nuada began. His voice rasped, though, so he coughed to clear his throat. "To answer your question, I am fine, Layla." His voice sounded softer, deeper than normal, and I wished I could read his expression. But he was back to looking at the window, sipping his wine. "However, and please do not be offended, I think I want to mourn my friend alone for a while longer." 

"O-of course!" My voice was a squeak and my face still _burned_ with a blush. "I will just… um…" What should I say? "Please, do not hide for long, though. We are here with you." 

"I know." I glanced up and caught the flash of a small, sad, but very lovely smile. "But, just for a bit longer…" 

"I understand." I flashed him a smile and turned away, taking the steps down two at a time as my mind whirled. 

I had almost kissed him. I had _almost kissed him_. I had wanted to, almost desperately, to lean up and kiss him, to see his reaction to it. Why had I…? I was never the type to just want to kiss someone… for the sake of… oh, no. Oh, no, no, and no. 

I stumbled to a stop at the bottom of the staircase, staring at the ground in shock as I pressed my hand to my mouth. I… I was in love with him. I was in love with him. I, Layla Amell, was in love with that very kind, very idiotic man? 

When in bloody flames did that happen?! How childish could I be? How could I, one of the people Aiden depended on to keep the group functioning, fall in love in the middle of a war like… like some cheap romance novel protagonist?! There was too much going on! I should focus on more important things! 

Yet, even as I thought those things, tried to deny it, I just grew more and more certain on it. I was in love with Nuada, and I did not know when it happened. But they were quite strong and I did not think they would be leaving anytime soon. 

* * *

I sighed as the sounds of sobbing echoed on the wind. At long last, it seemed like all the dead were tallied and prepared. And I did mean _all_ of them, even those who died during the fall. While I was up with Nuada, someone against all odds found a mass grave where the bodies had been dumped. I had been told that those with strong stomachs had prepared them for their burnings. I had also been told Fergus had tended to what remained of his wife himself, while Elspeth had tended to her parents with help from Wynne. 

"I do not understand this." I glanced up, and up, at Sten, tilting my head in confusion. "Why is there such ceremony?" he muttered. I was not sure if he knew he was thinking aloud. I saw some nearby people give him dirty looks, though. "The body is just a husk, and this is not a practical manner to dispose of them." U-um… 

"Sten, try to talk quieter," I whispered, tugging at his sleeve to catch his attention. "You might get grieving people screaming at you." 

"I still do not understand." He did make his voice quieter, though. "They are no longer the person they were. Their souls are not in the body. It has left that vessel." So, um… 

"You are asking why there is a ceremony for the corpses?" He nodded and I bit my lip, trying to think of a good way to explain. "It is so we can say 'goodbye'." I glanced at the bodies, watching people wander the line, breaking down and wailing when they had their worst fears confirmed. "According to the Chantry, by lighting the body aflame, it keeps the soul from lingering too long in this plane, and thus will cross into the Fade and, from there, Paradise." Though, it also had a very practical aspect. Demons could not possess ashes, after all. "There are different rites for different countries, of course, but here, the bodies are burned." I met his eyes. "It might not be very 'practical' to you, Sten, but it is for us. Yes, it involves a lot of time and resources, but it is a comfort to those left behind. It lets us find the courage to move on, and to not become burdened by the death." 

"So, it is… practical to your people because it provides solace for those left behind." I nodded and he looked thoughtful. "I see. Yes, I suppose that makes sense now." Glorious. "The fires are burning." Ah, yes, they were. "Here." He passed me a handkerchief, one that was scented with lavender. He carried lavender scented handkerchiefs? Really? "The smell is atrocious." 

"Yes, it is." I covered my nose and mouth with the handkerchief and the smell of lavender almost drowned out the acrid scent of smoke and burning meat. The city would smell awful for weeks. 

"What are the priests singing?" So, it seemed I was Sten's choice for questions today. Then again, Cleon was busy helping light the fires, and Elspeth was with her brothers and nephew, mourning. "I can't make out the words." 

"They are verses of the Chant of Light. The prayers also bring comfort to the grievers, and are believed to help the spirit find the path to the afterlife." 

"I see." He frowned a little. "I thought they were singing about peas." …I honestly could not help the giggles that escaped. "So many of your people sound like they are talking behind a mouth full of food. Many in the group do not, but the signs have helped clarify words I could not understand." 

"So, you do not know the King's Tongue well?" 

"I know better than many of my fellows." He hesitated before adding, "I used to pester merchants about the language." I found myself giggling again at the thought of a younger Sten asking too many questions. "Though, there are things I still do not understand." 

"That is good though, is it not? Learning should never stop." 

"A wise attitude." Did… did I just get praise? Did Sten just praise me? "You are not like the saarebas in Seheron." What was…? Was that his word for mages? "They are prisoners to it, and many precautions must be taken in order to ensure they do not lose control." The clipped, almost bored way he said it made me think we were talking about things a little… harsher than what the Chantry and Circle did? "We ensure they cannot do harm to the people. They have their tongues cut out and they stay in pens, taken care of by Arvaarad." U-uh… "They are never allowed to be alone, and we have invented ways to prevent them from casting spells if something goes wrong." How?! Did they cut off their hands? 

"Is that not a little harsh?" 

"As a stranded fish knows the air, or a drowning man knows the sea, so does a mage know magic." I… okay, there was a lot not known about magic, but I would not go that far? "You cannot have just a 'little' drowning. Some things come only in excess." Well, yes, but still… "We pity and honor them." I have heard nothing that says you honored them, Sten! If anything, I was terrified! "They strive for control and calm, even under constant pressure from within. It is truly selfless, and the highest virtue of the Qun." Uh… 

"I would think ignorance would become deadlier than magic." I kept my words firm as he looked at me. "Besides, it is with magic that I can heal, and not all…" …No, it would be wrong to say that. The Circle Tower had a good example of what happened when even _one_ mage turning to blood magic could do. "I am glad to have my tongue." I should simply go to that. "I am glad to have the ability to study my magic. There is much unknown, but there is also much I learn. I am cautious of my magic, but I will not let fear turn myself into nothing more than a weapon bent on destruction." 

"…Good words." He nodded. "This is why you are different from them." Uh… "You have the mind of a viddasala." What was…? "The viddasala are high ranked members of the Ben-Hassrath, part of the priesthood." He thought I was a priestess? "They have many roles, but among them is finding, studying, and stopping magic." Oh. "We had best move lest we are choked by the smoke." Ah, yes! "It seems Aiden is waving you over." He pointed through the billowing smoke to help me see Aiden in the crowd. It seemed Cleon and Nuada were already there. "I shall find the others for a task to make myself useful." Ahaha… 

"Thank you for the handkerchief." I smiled up at him, but before I walked away, I felt the need to ask, "Sten?" He glanced at me curiously. "Have you given 'ranks' to the others?" 

"Only two for now." I wondered if it helped him to make sense of the strange group he traveled with. "Elspeth is like a tamassran, and she is kadan." What did those terms mean? "Aiden has the makings of a kithshok, a general." Oh! "We shall see if he blooms to it." 

"I'm sure he will." I gave him a warm smile, and actually received a small smile in reply. "Can I ask another question?" He laughed! It was a small chuckle, but he did, and he nodded. "How do the qunari view romance?" He gave me a skeptical look. "I'm curious!" 

"We have it, but we do not associate it with marriage and intercourse as you all seem to." Ah… "It is a type of happiness, but like all happiness, it is fragile. Nothing built upon it will last. Truly, only duty endures time." A-ah… "But it is a fool who does not seize what pieces of happiness they can salvage. All have a purpose, but you are free to choose within the roles you are given, including who you love. It just cannot interfere with your job." Oh. That was… "Is your mind calmer?" 

"…" I sighed heavily. "It's difficult to just pretend things are nothing around you, isn't it?" 

"I am older. I have experience." I stuck my tongue out childishly, and got a pat on the head in return. This was a weird day. "Go on. You have your job." 

"Yes, I do." I sighed again, but smiled at him. "And thank you again, for answering." This time I _did_ run off, dodging people and using the handkerchief to keep from choking on the smoke as I made my way to the others. 

'There you are,' Cleon signed as I finally joined him. He had been watching specifically for me. 'Lovely talk with Sten?' 

"Actually, it very much was," I answered, signing the words after I tucked the handkerchief into my belt. "He is not so scary, is he?" 

'Sometimes, I think he is a giant stuffed animal that just happens to have the strength to rip your head off.' He grinned as I rolled my eyes. 'Regardless, Fergus called up here.' Oh? 

"Ah, Layla, there you are," Fergus greeted. He gave me a smile, but I noticed it was wan and he was quite pale. He did not look like he had slept at all. "Well, let's get this brief meeting started then." All of us nodded, but I found myself glancing at Nuada, wondering what he had thought during… that moment… But when he caught me looking, he simply smiled. I smiled back, before focusing on who was signing for Cleon. Since Aiden already had his hands up, I assumed him. "So, Nuada told me you all were planning on going to Redcliffe. Or maybe it was reminded? Honestly, I can't recall." Did it matter? "Regardless, I found this." He held up a sheet of paper. "It seems Redcliffe has been asking for aid." Really? "And Thomas had been ignoring them." That was lovely. "I fear if you don't leave soon, there might not _be_ a Redcliffe to get help from." 

"Well, at least we know we're walking into trouble," Aiden sighed, taking the missive. I took over signing as he read the letter, and became curious at his frown. "There's barely anything here." Nuada read the missive over Aiden's shoulder. "The Arl is ill, and they're under attack? By what? Darkspawn?" That was most logical, but why would they not just say that? "Was there a letter limit or something?" Now that was just ridiculous! 

"Does anyone have fire?" Nuada asked. Hesitantly, I held out my hand and called flame to my palm. My hand shook, but the fire itself remained perfectly steady. "Once again, Layla, you prove yourself as wonderful as you are lovely." I rolled my eyes at his brief flirtation, knowing better than to really put weight into it, and he took the note from Aiden. "Let's see if I'm just imagining the smell." Before any of us could ask what he meant by 'smell', he carefully held the paper over the fire. Cleon, eyes alight, crouched down to watch… something. When he saw whatever it was, he poked Nuada in the leg. "It's nice to be right." He pulled the letter away and this time, there was more to the message, burnt letters scrawling out an extra message. "Lemon juice mixed with water is nearly impossible to see, but it'll burn when heated. It's useful for hidden messages." Nuada had a fond smile on his face as he explained. "Teagan was the one who taught Elspeth and me that, actually." Oh? "Unless I'm mistaken, this is also his handwriting." Still, Nuada frowned before groaning. Huh? "Layla?" He gave me a tired look as he passed the note back to Aiden. "What's a way to have walking dead?" 

"Well, they would have to be corpses possessed by demons," I answered after a moment. It took me a bit to figure out what signs to use so Cleon could follow along. "There are different classifications and abilities based on what type of demon possessed them, and if the corpse was of a mage or not." Aiden sighed heavily, passing the note to Cleon to read. "Why?" 

"Redcliffe is being attacked by the undead." …Oh. "Aiden, you and I are going to learn templar tricks from Alistair, and we're going to listen very closely to the advice of smarter people. I'd rather be the only one losing an eye, thank you." 

"Yes, that does sound like a good idea," Aiden murmured. Cleon passed the note over to me so I could read. I sighed as I confirmed the words for myself. "Forgive us, Lord Fergus, but our group will be leaving for Redcliffe in the morning." 

"Completely understood," Fergus reassured. He gave us a warm smile. "I thank you for your assistance, and insist that you rearm yourselves with our armory." That would probably be a good idea. "Also, why not head down to the beach?" Huh? "It's nice and relaxing there, the wind will keep the smoke from there, and you all don't look like you've gotten many moments to yourself." Well, that was true. "Listen to the advice of a smarter person and take a break." 

"What smarter person?" Nuada immediately snarked. Aiden and I just laughed, while Cleon smiled and shook with silent laughter. "But, yes, the beach would be nice. Elspeth and I had hoped to take Mother for a picnic down there with Uncle Duncan and these three." Oh? …Oh… "So, it'll be nice." 

"If you insist, Lord Nuada," Aiden sighed. He looked a bit hesitant. "We won't have to swim, right?" 

"Anyone who tries to force someone to swim will find themselves promptly thrown in." Aiden's sigh of relief made me giggle again. "Do you not know how?" Aiden shook his head and Nuada blinked slowly. "I wonder if there's anyone else who doesn't." I hesitantly raised my hand. "Cleon, do you?" 

Cleon nodded, before signing, 'we should hold lessons. It is a very useful skill.' 

"I concur." Uh oh. "But, that is something for later. It's really not good to _learn_ in the Amaranthine Sea, especially on these shores. The water is a bit too rough." Oh, thank the Maker. "Let's round up everyone and get that much needed time off." 

It would only be half a day, but I felt my face hurt with the giant grin I had. Yes, it was much needed again, to make sure we would've lose ourselves to the Blight. I had no interest in becoming a lost soldier myself, not one bit. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thus the conclusion of the Highever Arc. Just little things, really. References to things in the Human Noble Origin chapters, showcasing  
> funerals, referencing a scene in the Alistair romance, Layla figuring out her feelings, etc.  
> I am of the opinion that the rose Alistair gives a romanced!Warden is the same rose Leliana saw bloom on a dead bush, which World of Thedas revealed to be  
> a white rose. Besides, white roses are associated with humility, purity, innocence, young love, marriage, beginnings, remembrance, etc, etc.  
> Sten's comments are based on what we know about Qunari burying practices. Him pestering merchants about the Common tongue (King's tongue, trade tongue, it  
> was invented by the dwarves, for those curious) comes from World of Thedas, Vol 2. Viddasala is a rank of the Qunari learned during the Trespasser DLC.
> 
>  
> 
> Next Chapter – To Redcliffe with Aiden (traveling chapter)


	62. Chapter 54) To Redcliffe

Chapter 54) To Redcliffe 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_Whispers danced over the crowd as I pushed my way through the market to get back to the Alienage. Some were saying 'it's so cute~' while others muttered darkly about Orlesians. Arl Eamon and Arlessa Isolde must be walking through the city again. The gossips always whispered when they did._

_I turned a corner and caught of glimpse of them walking arm in arm. Arl Eamon's smile was gentle as he pointed out something, while Arlessa Isolde looked up at him with adoring, sparkling eyes._

_Whatever the gossips said, one thing was clear. Despite all the vicious words and glares, they were very much in love. And there was a certain strength in that._

* * *

I couldn't fight off my groan as I flopped to the ground, muscles keening. Sten went extra hard during our sparring session today and I was certain my bruises had bruises. And it might've continued if he hadn't decided a patrol should take priority to beating my ass into the ground. 

Sighing, I let myself relax and looked around the camp. I immediately focused on Alistair and Cleon, simply because they were across the way. Their signing was rapid, with Cleon frowning and making sharp gestures to show annoyance. To my surprise, though, Alistair wasn't backing down. His gestures were shakier, more timid, but his eyes were determined. 

I focused on the signs, trying to read them despite viewing them upside down. I caught the sign for 'Morrigan' and wondered if this was about Cleon's relationship. I had my suspicion confirmed when Cleon angrily signed out that he and Morrigan were just in a 'physical' relationship, a bit of fun and stress relief. I thought there were a little too many lingering looks for that, but whatever helped them sleep at night. Or have sex. Whatever. I just appreciated how they kept the noise to the minimum. 

I focused again when I saw Alistair's signs suddenly sharpen. Not to an angry feel, but confident. It took me a minute to translate his signs, though, and it made me smile. 'Look, what you do is… what you do. That's fine. I'm just worried. She has her own agenda, and I'm scared someone will get hurt.' 

Cleon blinked slowly before sighing, with a little smile. 'Worrywart', he signed, smile turned affectionate. 

'I've lost a lot of friends and family.' Alistair's signs were hesitant again. 'That's all.' Alistair scowled as Cleon reached up and patted his head. 'I know I was raised by dogs, but there's no need to dismiss my thoughts with a pet.' 

'Not dismissing. And I'm sure you'd prefer Elspeth petting you anyway.' Alistair turned red enough to make me worry for his health. 'Just trying to reassure. I'll do better next time.' 

The conversation might've continued, but Lord Nuada and Zevran bounded up and dragged the two off. Zevran's signing mentioned training, so I wondered if that was what Lord Nuada and Alistair were going to do. But, hadn't Lord Nuada been teaching…? 

"Everything hurts…" Mistress Layla whimpered as she plopped down next to me, sprawling out on her back too. "Oh, hey, that cloud looks like a bunny." Now that she mentioned it… "Ugh… why does it hurt?" 

"Muscles breaking and reforming or something?" I answered with a little sigh. That was what Sten had said, at least. "I don't know. It just hurts." She sighed in agreement, and I went back to trying to look at the camp. I ended up just focusing on Zevran and Cleon. Zevran chatted with me so much; I actually felt a little out of sorts when he didn't. Weird. 

"Yeah…" Mistress Layla sighed again. It was mournful and exasperated, so I made myself roll over to better see what she was looking at. Unless I was mistaken… 

"Mad at Lord Nuada again?" She squeaked and, to my surprise, reddened. "Mistress Layla?" 

"…" She sighed heavily, covering her face with her arms. "It is probably better to talk about it now. Once we get to Redcliffe, we will be so busy." Okay? "I asked Sten about this, and I like what he said, but I would like your opinion too. When I asked Wynne… well, she made me depressed." Wait, she did? Huh? "What's your take on relationships and romance?" …What. 

"Wait, are you in love with Nuada?" She lifted her arms just enough to scowl at me, and I could only stare in shock. "When did that happen?" 

"I have no idea." She rested her arms back on her face. "But it happened." 

"And you're asking me, and not Cleon, who had a fiancé prior to all of this, because…?" 

"Cleon will tease me silly." I couldn't refute that. "So, perhaps when I am a little more secure in the feeling, I will, but right now it is new and a little scary." Ah… "So, what is your opinion?" Hmm… 

"Hate to say this, Layla, but I'm not the best person to ask." I sighed and rolled back onto my back. "I've always known I would be arranged to marry someone, a stranger. It's something all city elves do. It brings new blood to Alienages, and helps us keep our race alive." 

"That is because the children of an elf and a human is a human." Mistress Layla sounded sad and conflicted. "…Remind me later to tell you something. It is much more secret." Okay? 

"Well, yes, you're right." I'd let it go for now. "Now, I know some things. I know the urges and crushes. I figured out a few years ago I was bisexual, for instance. But I never got into a relationship, as I knew it couldn't last." So, what did I think _now_ , when I was no longer bound by that? I hadn't even thought about it. "Are you asking because you used to have relationships and crushes and now don't know if it's proper or not?" 

"No, that is not it, exactly." Mistress Layla sighed. "I have only had two crushes, ever." Huh? "One was on Cullen, a templar back at the Tower." That had to be complicated. "The other is Nuada." Right, we established that. "Neria and Anders were always out and about, having fun. Jowan was not nearly as free with his affections, but he would make comments. All three had those sorts of attractions growing up, but I did not. I just never thought of anyone that way." She sighed again. "It was confusing with Cullen, but I at least knew, for a fact, that I could not have a relationship with him." Not without a lot of problems. "But now, I am not so certain?" She growled a little in frustration. "I just do not know." 

I didn't reply immediately. Instead, I observed the others in camp. Morrigan and Elspeth were mixing up something, for instance, while Leliana and Wynne were cooking dinner. It wouldn't be long before the watches would be allotted and everyone went to sleep. 

"I… think you should wait until after we are done with Redcliffe before deciding," I finally answered. With a groan, I pushed myself up so I could look at her easier. She'd moved her arms enough to give me a curious look. "Maybe the reason why it's all confusing is simply because you're overwhelmed. We just saved Highever, after all, and that's related to a lot of old injuries." She nodded slowly. "So, wait. May the answer will be clearer after we've gone through bunches of chaos again." Undead attacking Redcliffe… likely demons to fight… yeah, chaos. "I think that's the best advice I can give you." 

"…I like it better than Wynne's," she murmured with a little smile. She pushed herself up and whimpered. "Ow…" 

"You two should make sure to drink water." Both of us looked up as Leliana came over, balancing two cups and a bowl, somehow. I quickly relieved her of the cups and passed one to Mistress Layla. "It'll help your bodies," she explained before crouching down. "Aiden, will you taste this for me?" Huh? "Wynne and I can't tell what's wrong with it." And she came to me? "Please?" 

"All right," I answered, taking the bowl and spoon from her. A spoonful later, though, and I figured it out. "Where's the rosemary?" 

"That's what it was!" She took back the bowl with a smile. "Ah, thank you so much, Aiden." You're welcome? "Um… there was something else… oh!" She snapped her fingers. "Wynne mentioned we weren't far from the Tower." Oh? …Oh. 

"We should check in and make sure it's doing all right." Mistress Layla beamed at me and Leliana smiled. But it wasn't her normal smile. It was softer and warmer. It was… really pretty, actually. She should smile like that more often. "It'll be a good place to break, anyway." If for no other reason than to sit by the lake. 

"Very true!" She laughed, and went back to her 'normal' smile. I felt a little put out at the change. "Back to cooking, then!" She darted off and, having nothing to do, I just decided to flop back to the ground. 

Mistress Layla did the same. "I still say that cloud looks like a bunny," she declared, pointing this time. 

"I agree," I murmured, before pointing to another one. "And that one looks like a mabari." 

"Like Eoin!" So, until dinner was ready, Mistress Layla and I acted a little like choreless children and just watched the clouds. It was nice to breath, after so much madness. And we were only walking into more. Willingly. 

We were insane. But I doubted I wanted it any other way. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Nice little filler chapter, really. (Oh, just to inform, we're… basically at the halfway point of Saga now? A little over? If you're counting chapter numbers? Ahaha?)   
>  For those curious, Layla is demiromantic-demisexual. You may either ask, or look up, what that means. ^^ (So, record-wise: Aiden is bisexual, Nuada is pansexual, Cleon is heterosexual, and Layla is demisexual) 
> 
> Next chapter – Interlude, Sten 


	63. Interlude - Beresaad

Interlude – Beresaad 

* * *

He cannot say he's pleased to be here again. His skin crawls as he remembers how _they_ had sprung from the ground itself and tore his brothers to pieces. And then he woke up, alive yet soulless, and… 

No, he cannot say he's pleased to be here again. But he is, and that is the fact of the matter. 

Sighing and muttering curses under his breath, he shakes his head, focusing his thoughts on the Tower barely visible from the shoreline. That is where the bas here caged their mages. It had fallen, yet somehow had been saved and not all the saarabas had been put to the sword for fear of corruption. He thinks it foolish, but he cannot deny the use of a good weapon will be powerful against the Blight. He knows that much. 

In a way, he's found the answer to the Arishok's question. Yet, he cannot return and report. The madness of this situation… 

Muttering more curses, he turns from the lake entirely, focusing on the strange group he travels with. Nothing about them makes sense. They break out from the little boxes you'd expect them to fulfill and prove themselves different with each dribble of words that falls from their mouths. The tamassran would be beside themselves trying to find their places. 

Yet, as he watches them laugh, he finds himself listing what would happen when the rest came. Wynne, Morrigan, and Viddasala would be treated as if they were saarabas, broken and collared, or killed for fear of corruption. Zevran would likely become a laborer, due to never quite submitting. Leliana would become ben-hassrath, if she did not die. Kadan might do well, if she did not die in the defense of others. Kithshok would die. Cleon would die. Alistair would die. Nuada would die. 

It bothers him, thinking that. And he grimaces when he acknowledges to himself that if they were on a battlefield, on opposite sides, he would not look for them. Even though he knows their skills, knows how dangerous of enemies they could be… he would not. Because he finds some strange sort of charm to their cheerful chaos, and it… bothers him. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. Those who are not Qunari are supposed to be beneath him. And yet… ah, the Ben-Hassrath would be horrified by how much re-educating he would need, if he _could_ return home. 

"Sten!" He turns and blinks slowly as he identifies Nuada coming up. Twin to Kadan, he had thought the young warrior nothing but a fool when he first saw him, skilled in arm and nothing else. Yet, now he knows different. The child is a strategist, and a skilled one, who simply needs to be encouraged to pursue that role. "Here!" He blinks slowly as something is thrust at him. A little baked thing, like bread, but crumbly. And sweet, as he soon discovers. "Have a cookie." Cookie. There is no word for that in Qunlat. That needs to be corrected. Now. "Like it?" Nuada asks, a laugh in his voice. He answers by simply eating the rest of it. "Seems so~" Nuada laughs again, rocking back on his heels. He notes, however, as Nuada consistently shifts to check his blind right-side, and approves of the wariness. "Everything all right?" 

"It's…" he begins, but pauses. The Wardens are not as callow as he thought. They are clumsy, floundering, but their determination is, frankly, awe-inspiring. So, instead… "This is where I lost my men." Nuada's eyes widen slightly before quickly donning the mask of a concerned listener. It does not unnerve and annoy him nearly as much it used to. "And where I lost Asala, my sword." 

"If it has a name, it must be important." He points to the sword resting on Nuada's hip. "Yeah, like mine." But Nuada doesn't ask. He simply waits, listening. 

It prompts him to continue. "It is. It is my soul." Nuada does not show any signs of confusion or strangeness, simply listening. It reminds him of Kadan. "Without it, I am a deserter, to be executed on sight." 

"Sounds traumatizing." Nuada's eyes suddenly light with realization, and he is reminded of how perceptive Nuada can be. "The family…" 

"Yes." There is no excuse. There is no justification. He is a failure of a Sten for allowing such a thing to occur. But that did not mean there hadn't been a reason. "In that trauma, I butchered them, wrongly turning my anger on those who went out of their way to help me." 

"Thus why you stayed among the dead and didn't fight as people came to cart you away." Nuada nods, smiling as he finishes the last of the puzzle. "All that means is that, unless you find your sword, you can't go home, can you?" He shakes his head, tensing. It sounds all the worse when it comes from another's mouth. "Well, if that is the case, then you are more than welcome to stay with us." Nuada smiles warmly. "If we don't kill you with our insanity, of course." 

"Of course." Still, he cannot help but be touched. It is a simple gesture, but it is filled with meaning. "Thank you." He hesitates before adding, "though, you are odd, allowing a child murderer to stay." 

"Sten, I literally had an uncle slaughter my family and people for a piece of land and the title associated with it." He still doesn't understand such greed. It seems like a sickness of a soul, one that could be purged only with death. "That isn't even going into things I really rather be drunk before I even think about talking about." Nuada shrugs. "Besides, Zevran is an assassin, Leliana's a former one, Morrigan is at least an accomplice to her mother's murders, Aiden massacred an entire garrison of soldiers to slaughter a degenerate lord, Cleon's at least chased people like prey through the forest to get them away, I've killed assassins just doing their job, Elspeth's poisoned tea… really, Layla, Alistair, and Wynne are probably the only ones who haven't done something questionable in their past." That… is likely true. "I can't say it's something to be condoned, but I feel like nothing I could say would be something you've not told yourself ten times." There is that perception again. The reason why he is a good strategist, and better tactician. "To change the subject slightly, were there any others in your group that wielded swords?" He shakes his head and is startled by how Nuada's eyes light up. "I'm going to check something." That is all he gets before Nuada darts away, posture strong and sure. 

"Now, what is he doing?" He turns and nods at Wynne as she approaches with a shaking head. "That child really needs to learn to communicate," she sighs. She turns a smile at him, though. "Come inside, Sten. We're having lunch here, and I'm almost done with that sweater for you." He hesitates before nodding. While he is far more durable than the others, he had to admit that he really did not like the cold. "I'll make you a coat next, so just deal with the sweater for now." She is like a tamassran, just like Kadan. 

"Sten!" He sees Leliana wave excitedly at him. "Come, join us!" she laughs, beckoning him into the warm room filled with laughter. "Zevran is telling us a story from Antiva and it is hilarious!" He wonders if he'll catch the humor… but he finds himself smiling as he joins the group, and eats the strange food that he's growing to like, drinks the alcohol he's growing to enjoy, and listens to the strange group he's growing to consider 'family'. 

Yes, the Ben-Hassrath would be absolutely horrified by how much re-educating he would need if he ever returned to Seheron. But, he can't say he _quite_ regrets that part. 

Clearly, their madness has infected him too. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And here's Sten, and a mention of Sten's companion quest. Bits and pieces taken from his game-file-bio and some things the writers have mentioned. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Returning to Redcliffe with Nuada 


	64. Chapter 55) Undying Trouble

Chapter 55) Undying Trouble 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_So, this was Redcliffe? Did it get its name from the soil or from the blood of everyone that died trying to take it? I was very curious, but it didn't seem like a thing to ask._

_"Bryce, it's been too long!" a man greeted us cheerfully, smiling warmly as he met us halfway in the receiving room. "Who are these two? Surely not Nuada and Elspeth."_

_"Makes you feel old, Eamon?" Father laughed. He had his 'real' smile, so I automatically put this 'Eamon' in the 'probably actually a good person' list. "Though, as I understand it, you've a little boy yourself, now."_

_"That's right, you've not met Connor." I tilted my head curiously, noting how 'Eamon's' smile softened. He must love his son dearly. "But yes, I do. Teagan complains that he's too old for two nephews."_

_"I can't wait to sic Nuada and Elspeth on him." Was Teagan a bad man? "Though it might be a bit. Fergus jumped on him." Oh, then maybe they just liked teasing him. "Give me a tour! What's different?"_

_"Well, we finally fixed that windmill." There was a windmill here? I wanted to see! "Follow me. I'll gladly show you around."_

* * *

It was amazing what a few months, weeks, could do. The normally bustling village of Redcliffe, which had been lively when we passed through on the way to Ostagar, was quiet and fearful, its people skittering about. That alone screamed something was wrong, even without the message. 

"The Veil is very thin here," Wynne murmured. Her eyes were narrowed at the sky, as if she expected a hole to spontaneously appear there. "If I had to take a guess, I think a fledgling mage got into a lot of trouble." Her signing was light and gentle, the slight shaking hinting how she was worried about this hypothetical mage. Leliana gently patted her arm reassuringly, and smiled when Wynne glanced at her in thanks. "It's not uncommon, really. A child mage still has enough power, and without training, their magic will burst." 

"Not helped, of course, by everyone's foolish fears on magic," Morrigan scoffed. Even her signs were sharp and biting. Cleon rolled his eyes at them, shaking his head slightly. "Their panic only feeds the trouble." 

"While I normally would agree, Morrigan, I think we're looking at a very good reason _why_ magic is feared," Aiden gently countered. His signs were certain and crisp, though, a telling sign that this would be the end of whatever argument that might brew. I saw Sten nod approvingly. "Lord Nuada? Lady Elspeth? Where would the leader be?" 

"I believe I see Teagan in the square right there," Elspeth answered. She pointed to a redhead in the middle of a group of people, using my shoulder to balance. "Murdock is next to him." 

"Aiden, you want me to go talk?" I asked, turning to face the group. He smiled sheepishly and nodded. "It's fine. I'll head down and talk while you coordinate everyone for whatever." 

"Nuada, I'm coming with you." I wasn't the only one surprised when Alistair said that. Personally, I was more surprised it was a statement, not a request. Was that bad of me? "You'll need someone to ferry specific requests to Aiden," he noted with a little shrug. Layla opened her mouth to suggest something, but the shut it with a slight shake of her head. I wondered what she'd been planning, and then remembered how in Ostagar she and Wynne communicated through magic. Why did she decide against reminding? "I can do that." 

"Then, let's go?" I glanced at Aiden, who nodded with a slightly confused smile and shrug that said 'why not?'. "Down the hill we go, then. Careful, it's really easy to fall." Not three seconds after I said that, Zevran slipped. He promptly somersaulted and landed almost perfectly into the lake, surfacing with a laugh. I half-wondered if he did it on purpose. It certainly lightened our moods. "Careful that he doesn't do naked cliff-diving now that he knows it's deep enough. It's a thing in Antiva." 

If there was a reply, I didn't hear it as Alistair and I meandered our way into the square, carefully slipping into the crowd. I studied the people as we past. I saw injuries badly bandaged, clothes ragged and ill-fitting. I saw red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained faces. I saw shaking fear and whimpering worry. They were a far cry from the exuberant laughing crowd that happily joined in an impromptu drinking contest. 

They needed a good laugh. I might as well try. 

"So, I take it this is worse than the frozen lake incident?" I asked lightly, easily breaking into the conversation. Murdock blinked slowly at me, like he thought I was a hallucination, and stepped a bit away, eying me warily. 

Teagan, however, immediately groaned. "Nuada, let that thing die all ready!" he complained, shaking his head. He then paused and stared at me. "Wait, Nuada? What are you doing here?" His next words shocked me. "And with Alistair?" 

"I didn't think you'd remember me," Alistair mumbled. I gave him a look and he shrugged. "I really didn't. I mean; I was covered in mud and all last time he saw me and it was ten years ago." 

"Hard to forget the little boy who went out of his way to make me laugh when he noticed I was sad." Alistair coughed awkwardly and Teagan shook his head. "Ah, not a time for memory lane wandering. I'm not old enough anyway." Ha! "Nuada, seriously, how are you here when we need help?" 

"You sent a message to Highever," I reminded, crossing my arms. I noticed there were smiles in the crowd as it slowly dispersed. Some looked hopeful, even. Could I call this a 'success' then? "I'm assuming it was you. It was your handwriting, and the writer used the lemon juice trick." 

"Yes, I remember that." Teagan looked so confused. "But how did _you_ see that? Highever is…" 

"It was liberated. Fergus rules it again." Teagan's face brightened in a relieved smile. "Of course, that's assuming Oren will let him." 

"Oren's alive too?" He laughed, and I saw him noticeably relax. "Ah, that gives me hope for everyone inside the castle." But at the words, he grew serious again. "Since you're here in response to the message, I'm assuming you're both here to help. Is it just you?" 

"No, we have an entire group." I glanced back and pointed all the way up to the hill by the windmill. "You can see a couple there." 

"Oh, good. Murdock has a list of specific jobs that need to get done." Alistair immediately went to chat with Murdock. I noticed he got Murdock to sigh in exasperation, but relax and smile, within moments. "Times like this, he reminds me of his father." Teagan flinched as he realized what he said. "Ah…" 

"I already know. Elspeth got it from Uncle Duncan way back in Ostagar." Teagan nodded, sighing a little, and we moved away from the two to have a little more privacy. "So, what all can you tell me?" 

"Eamon is gravely ill and no one has heard from the castle in days." Well, that… that… shit, that wasn't a good sign. "No guards patrol the walls." I had _never_ heard of that happening before. Even the Orlesians had kept regular guards. "And no one responds to my shouts." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The attacks here started a few nights ago. Undead, surging from the castle." Well, this just kept getting better and better. "We drove them back, but many perished." 

"Then, you saw them the next night, as the attackers." Teagan nodded and I had to fight off the urge to groan. I tensed as I heard movement on my blind side, and turned to see it was Alistair, walking off to do something. I shifted so that my right side was leaning against a building. "Are we the only ones who've responded?" 

"Yes." Teagan's eyes glinted in cold, hard anger. "Cailan's dead and Loghain is starting a war over the damn throne." We needed to get those rumors out _soon_. "I sent word to Highever in desperation. Maybe Thomas wasn't as bad as his father." Considering Thomas had ignored it… "We had a smith that continues drinking, Dwyn with mercenaries that refuse to get involved, and I have a feeling tonight's will be the worst yet." What was it with us and appearing right in the nick of time? It was a strange sort of luck. 

"Well, we're here now, and this isn't even the strangest thing we've had to deal with." He gave me a skeptical look and I laughed before shrugging. "Regardless, I think I'll have a talk with that Dwyn you mentioned." I smiled slowly and Teagan actually looked a little scared. "Oh, come now! I'm not going to hurt him!" I was just going to convince him to help, and check into that rumor I remember from when we were here before. 

"Nuada, if there's one thing I've learned about Couslands since returning from the Marches, it's that if they're smirking, you need to be afraid." I laughed and he groaned. "Just… try to keep it peaceful." 

"Relax. Trust me." He groaned again. "I'll see you later. Go introduce yourself to the others. Aiden might win the spar this time. He's been training." 

"I might challenge him again, if we get through this." He shook his head and clapped me on the back. "It's good to see you, by the way. I don't think I said that." 

"It's good to see you too." More importantly, I was glad to see an old friend who wasn't trying to kill me. "Let's keep everyone from joining the undead horde, yes?" 

* * *

I was impressed with Sten's strength. I was _really impressed_ with how strong Sten had to be, if _this stupidly heavy greatsword was really his._

"Sten!" I called, breath a bit ragged. Wow, and here I'd thought I was strong and in good shape. "Over here!" I let go of the sword with one hand to wave him over from carrying crates to help form a barricade and nearly toppled over from the unbalanced weight. "Whoa!" 

"If you are falling because of a simple sword, then you need to train more." I gave Sten a dirty look as he came over. "You should not dislike the truth so much," he chided. I rolled my eyes and attempted to pass the sword over to him. "Now, what is…" He trailed off, eyes actually wide. It was probably the first, and likely _last_ , time I had seen Sten so obviously startled. "That is…" 

"Last time we were here, I heard Dwyn had a qunari sword." He took it, smiling slightly as he checked the blade for nicks and scratches. I tried not to scowl at how easily he held it. "So, is it yours?" 

"Yes." Success! "This is my Asala." Now, was that the actual name of his sword or was than qunari for 'soul'? "Strange…" He moved out of range and swung the greatsword. It 'whirred' through the air easily, glinting blue in the fading light. "I had almost forgotten the feeling. Completion." He shook his head and slung the greatsword onto his back. "You are nonsense. Finding a single lost blade in a country at war." 

I had the distinct advantage of it being a _qunari_ sword, and braggarts who were very proud of that one little fact. "You're welcome, Sten." I made my voice gently chiding and he rolled his eyes. I almost laughed. "So, what will you do?" 

"My sword is mine again. I plan on putting it to use." He looked thoughtful. "My squad was sent here to answer the Arishok's question. 'What is the Blight?'" That's right. Based on historical records, the qunari didn't appear in these waters until _after_ the fourth Blight ended. "I can deliver a much more satisfying answer if the Blight were ended, yes?" I had the distinct feeling he was reinterpreting orders. 

I was glad for it. "Yes, I think so too." I grinned. "And here I was worried I wouldn't see you beat Aiden's ass into the ground again." 

"He is improving his guard. Slowly." Ha! "I have a question, though." He did? And he was going to ask _me_? "It is about Alistair." Oh, Maker, what happened? "He has been explaining that he is the brother of the dead human king to the group." …He _told_ the others? He told him themselves? Today was a day of surprises. Thankfully, so far, they were 'good' surprised. I think. "Why is that important?" Ah, right, Qunari did not have family and inheritance like we did here. "The others acted as though it was." So, why not ask Elspeth as he normally did? 

Ah, well. I was here. I might as well try. "It makes him a threat to Loghain, our… well, our 'lesser' enemy. He makes it difficult and inefficient to go after the Archdemon, the true threat." He nodded, accepting that. His eyes narrowed, though, and I could see he was still wondering why. "Because of his birth, he can claim his brother's title." How was I going to explain this? 

"Are you saying he was born to be king?" 

I… you know what? Let's roll with it. "Yes, he was, but because of circumstances, he was placed in a different role. He did well enough so no one questioned, but now…" 

"I see." He nodded, expression thoughtful. "Then he must take his role." That would only work if we could convince Alistair that he _could_ take it, and do it well. "I will talk to him later." Oh, flames, what did I unleash? I'm sorry, Alistair! "Let us move on and continue to work, Ashkaari." The blunt words were followed by him leaving, and I was left wondering what 'Ashkaari' meant. 

"Oh, Nuada!" I turned and saw Alistair himself running up. He looked a little wan. "You were talking to Dwyn, right?" he asked. I nodded, smiling a little. "Will he help? Murdock said that he wasn't, but…" His eyes narrowed. "You're smiling like the cat that caught the pigeon." 

"I think the expression is 'canary'," I replied lightly. He rolled his eyes. "I'm simply a little proud, that's all." 

"Proud?" Alistair looked so confused that I almost felt bad. "About what?" 

"Sten said you told the others about your heritage." Alistair sighed heavily and I shrugged. "I'm proud that you took that initiative." 

"I just thought it would come up, so I wanted to tell on my own terms." Alistair, I had honestly thought you'd try to hide it until your dying day. "Oh, but Morrigan laughed and made a comment and I snapped back, so we're angrier at each other than usual." If he was making a point to tell me, then it had to be bad. "She mentioned something of trying to find my father in me, and I told her to go die somewhere." Ah. "I was on my way to tell Aiden when I found you." I had no idea how to react to this. "Oh, hey, there's Layla!" 

I stiffened a little when I glanced over my shoulder and saw her running up. Automatically, I thought of how, back in Highever, back in the tower, I had almost kissed her. Honestly, the only reason I hadn't was because I remembered, at the last second, that there was no way I was thinking clearly after everything that had happened. No matter how much the memory made my pulse race, I couldn't make a clear distinction in my head. Did I like her? Did I love her? Did I simply find her pretty and wanted physical comfort after everything? I didn't know. And considering the undying trouble on the horizon, now wasn't the time to try and piece it together. 

"I'm off to find more things to do," I said lightly, already moving. Running away from a problem wasn't unusual for me, after all. I needed a clear head to do my duty, and I did _not_ have a clear head around her. "See you later, Alistair." 

I thought I heard a flustered farewell, but I didn't pay attention. I just focused on getting some distance for now. From there, I'd figure out something out. I hoped. 

Something bumped my leg, and it took me a second to realize Cleon had gently kicked it to catch my attention. 'You look frazzled,' Cleon signed when I looked at him. He signed 'frazzle' three times to emphasize it. 'Everything okay?' 

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered, smiling as I made my signs light and bouncy. He just gave me a _look_ , not buying it for a second. "You are way too used to me." 

'Very.' He laughed at how deadpanned he looked. 'So?' 

"It's… complicated emotional thing that we don't have time for." Cleon was still giving me a look and I sighed. "I will think and figure it out." I signed 'will' twice for emphasis. "But this is really not the time." 

'I will take it.' Thank the Maker. 'We found a spy, by the way.' Oh, now that was interesting. 'Elspeth said it was Howe's signature on the note.' It was… oh. Oh, for crying out loud… 

"That is just _great_." I sighed. "I don't think this was as coincidental as we might've thought." When I signed the words, Cleon gave me another droll look. "Oh, come on! I was thinking a mage got scared by darkspawn, not Howe and Loghain potentially putting a mage here to purposely cause trouble! The Chantry…." I trailed off, hands stilling, before I _grinned_. "If this is true, we just got a bunch more ammunition." 

'Give me the short version.' Cleon smiled slightly. 'There isn't time for a full on ramble.' 

"And I would not want to repeat it multiple times." His smile grew and I snickered. "Basically, _if_ Loghain is involved in the mage trouble, then it has to deal with an apostate. He's interfering with the domain of the templars. Chantry hates that." 

'So, the wrath of the Chantry will be on our side for once?' Cleon smiled sardonically, his signs sharp. 'How amusing.' 

"Well, just imagine it aimed at Loghain and Howe." Now the smile was just bloodthirsty. "Anyway, we should get more work done." 

'Can you deal with the Inn?' Hmm? 'That owner is charging ridiculous money for ale.' 

"I can think of something." I could think of a lot of somethings, actually. "I'm off, then. If anyone is looking for me, you know where I am." 

'Of course.' Cleon suddenly grimaced. 'I'm going to calm Morrigan down, though. She and Alistair fought again, and then Wynne took Alistair's side. I don't know what it was all about, but the last thing we need is a full-scale argument.' 

"I wish you luck. For context, Morrigan made some sort of snarking comment about his father, and Alistair has issues." Cleon facepalmed. "Yes, I know." 

'See you later.' Cleon waved as he left, shaking his head. I waved too and switched my path to head up to the inn, already formulating plans to get this over with the fastest. 

After all, we have only until sunset to get this place ready for a siege. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Welcome to Redcliffe. Sten sword recovered, Alistair heritage known… not really a whole lot else. That's two companion quests done, though. Oh, toolset has Connor at age twelve at the start of the story, so I'm going with that age. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Zombies with Cleon 


	65. Chapter 56) Shambling Corpses

Chapter 56) Shambling Corpses 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Why are they moving?" I asked, glancing up at Zaphikel. We had been hunting, but he'd suddenly pulled me up into the trees. For good reason. The dead were walking. Literally. "Dead shouldn't move."_

_"Technically, they're not," Zaphikel explained. "You have a demon manipulating them, like a doll."_

_"Why would a demon do that?"_

_"Your father once taught me it was because demons cannot distinguish between the dead or living." He absently ruffled my hair. "Come, we must report this back. They are quite dangerous."_

_"Yes, sir."_

* * *

As the sun set in the sky, we were up on the passes. Well, some of us. Nuada, Aiden, Elspeth, Sten, Layla, and Wynne were with the forces in front of the Chantry, giving last minute tips and care to the civilians who were going to take up arms. The rest of us, though? We were here with the knights and mercenaries I didn't know the names of. Waiting. And I could tell by how everyone shifted that I was not the only one who 'heard' silence. It made them uneasy. I just hated how the wind felt sticky, not refreshing. 

'Well, everything is all nice and oiled,' Zevran signed to me. His face showed a grin; his hands showed worry. 'Glistening in the moonlight. It would be romantic if not for the whole 'pieces of wood' thing.' 

'You don't approve?' I signed back, smirking. 'I thought you liked oil.' 

'Yes, but I'm wondering why everyone thinks that the fires are going to stop the dead and we just will have to fight _flaming_ undead.' He signed 'flaming' twice for emphasis. 'And, alas, there is not many here I would wish to _oil_ up.' He waggled his eyebrows and I hid a grin behind my hand. 'Not yet, anyway. I like my fun.' 

I might've replied, but the air suddenly grew even heavier. Night had fallen, and fog was rolling in. And from it… we had shambling corpses staggering forward. A _lot_ of them. 

The archers got into position, shooting the flaming arrows to light the barricades on fire. And, just as Zevran predicted, it really didn't slow them down much. Why would it? It wasn't as if the dead felt pain. 

Zevran and I exchanged a look, shrugged, and went to flank. He took the right; I took the left. Leliana and Morrigan would handle center with the rest, and hopefully, none would come past us. 

I had to say though. Fighting something on fire? Resulted in lots of searing heat, drying eyes, and blisters all up and down your arms. Thank Mythal Wynne had insisted on making us wear Greater Warmer Balm as soon as she heard about the use of fire, and thank Sylaise that Morrigan and Elspeth could make so much so quickly. These blisters were superficial and annoying. The other knights who fought, who had not heeded Wynne's warnings? I saw no few of their hands char, arms blistering from where heated metal clung to their skin as they fought despite the pain. 

Knights were insane. Alistair had to physically shove them back to keep from dying. 

A corpse tried to shove me into the flaming barricade. I kicked off from it instead, flipping into the air to drive my daggers deep into the skull, ripping off the head. There was no heart to burst. There were not ligaments to shear. The only way to 'kill' them seemed to be dismemberment, or total obliteration of the bodies. Morrigan's freezing to allow us to shatter them did wonders to make the latter possible. 

But as the last one fell, I couldn't help but feel something was wrong. The air was far, far too heavy still. Too much pressure. Too much fog, coming from… 

'The lake.' I signed the words until one of mine saw the motion and looked to me. 'Something is coming from the lake.' I knew it. Elves had superior night vision, and I had been trained even further. I also relied far, far more on my sight now. And I could see… 'The Chantry is under attack.' Were there screams? I had no way of knowing. 

But our group bolted down the hill, slipping and sliding on loose rocks as we caught sight of the fight. There was already a lot of blood, and a lot of ripped apart corpses. I thought most of them might've been the result of Sten. He'd seemed far happier and confident after Nuada got him that sword. 

Then again, he and Aiden were fighting back to back, a whirlwind of death. Layla was using her glyphs to keep the dead away from where Wynne had set up an 'infirmary'. There were a lot of bleeding civilians within those wards, but Wynne appeared the picture of calm as she tended to the injured. The remaining civilians moved in a coordinated fashion, so even though I could not yet see him, could never hear him, I knew Nuada was shouting orders. Arrows hinting Elspeth was doing her best to cover everyone, even though there were far, far too many. 

Without anyone discussing anything, Leliana went to assist Elspeth and Zevran slipped into the mob of corpses to strike down those aiming for the civilians. Alistair slid to keep block and kill a corpse trying to strike Layla before helping a civilian limp into the wards. Morrigan would likely go to Layla too and ask what plan there was for magic, so I should find Nuada and… 

Pain rippled through me. Piercing pain, right at my neck where my armor didn't cover. I slammed my dagger back, catching something, and twisted. More pain, and blood oozing down my neck and armor, but a quick movement caught the corpse that had snuck up on me. 

No small part of me was frustrated. I used to be able to _hear_ when someone tried to ambush me. I couldn't do that again. Ever. But I… would just have to be careful. Like keep someone at my back all the damn time. 

Gentle light and a gentler touch was the only warning I got that someone _else_ had snuck up on me. Rolling my eyes, I turned and saw it was Morrigan, fingers lingering on the scab. 'Careful,' she signed, smirking. _'_ I am the only one allowed to bite you.' 

'Yes, yes, you are kinky. I know this.' I rolled my eyes and her smirk widened. 'Ah, there's Nuada.' Giving her a teasing, and thankful, kiss to the temple, I bolted for his side. 'Passes are clear, if you were worried.' 

'With you lot up there, of course not.' At first glance, everything from Nuada's smile to signing implied perfect calm and confidence. I saw his eyes narrow slightly in worry, though. The slight clench of his jaw in frustration. 'How is your neck?' I tapped the closed up injury with a smile. No real sign, but the message was clear anyway. 'Okay, then you and Zevran are going to play tag with the corpses.' Oh? Now why would… ah. 

'Layla and Morrigan delivering judgment?' I signed, smiling slightly. Nuada's returning smile was simply tired. 'Civilians?' 

'Got Teagan already getting them into the Chantry. We have long surpassed what they are capable of fighting.' Of course we had. 'The rest of us will play distraction while those two prep.' 

'And Morrigan already knows this?' I turned to look at her, only to see Layla physically dragging her off. 'Never mind. Layla clearly has it covered.' 

'I do love her so.' Despite the grin and teasing glint in his eye, there was something else, hiding underneath the words. I would confront him later. This was not the time. 'Luck be with you and Zevran, Cleon.' 

'If I get bit again, I will hurt you.' With a grin, I was off, snagging Zevran on the way to sign him the plan. Then we went about a merry little chase, jumping into the water to lure more of the dead out even. Why were there so many corpses around here? How many people had _died_ over the years? And how thin was the Veil, for there to be so many spirits pushing through? 

There was definitely far more to this than we expected. And we had already expected the worst. 

At some point, Zevran and I both noticed that no more dead were emerging from the water and bolted back to the group. There were no civilians in sight. Just our friends, fighting for their lives. No coordinated formation, except to keep them away from Layla and Morrigan, so we simply dove in too, using that as our signal for 'hey, we can kill them at any time now. Preferably now, actually.' 

It still took forever for Layla and Morrigan to release the spell. And when it came, I almost wished they hadn't. 

A lightning bolt split the sky, charring the ground where it struck and marking the center of a terrifying tornado of lightning. It lifted the corpses into the air, dragging the kicking and, I assumed, screaming into the vortex where it electrocuted them until their bodies crumbled away. All well and good, except the _rest of us were stuck in the middle of this_. 

Something snagged me just as I lost my footing. I glanced up to see it was Sten, using his greatsword as a grounding to keep from flying. Next to him, Aiden was doing the same, holding onto Leliana and Zevran. Closer to the Chantry Doors, Nuada was guarding Wynne, holding onto a pillar that I hoped would not break apart. It was already splintering. It also took me a brief, heart-stopping second to find Alistair and Elspeth. They'd found a spot actually _under_ the Chantry's steps, and were bracing themselves inside to keep from flying. 

Morrigan and Layla were just fine, of course. I could honestly have hurt them for _not warning us about this_! Even if it did work. 

The storm slowly, but surely, calmed. The dead were gone. And, as luck would have it, light was blossoming on the horizon. It didn't feel like we had fought for that long, but apparently, we had. We still held still for a very long while before moving. And, of course, all of us whirled right on Morrigan and Layla. 

To be fair to them, they both also looked very startled. 'I did not think it would be that powerful!' Layla signed, eyes wide. Her hands shook and that made it hard to read her signs. But I could figured it out, especially with how desperate she looked. 'I am so, so sor-' Nuada took her hands to keep her from continuing. I was glad for it. The signs were becoming a jumbled mess, so I couldn't keep up anyway. 

'Next time you two try the Storm of the Century combination spell, please let us set up wards, first,' Wynne signed, taking over. Even Morrigan looked sheepish. 'You two are very powerful mages. That is what made it strong. It drained a lot of power from you.' Well, nice that someone knew what was going on? 'Though, since we are all here, might someone explain why there are so many corpses? Why were they not burned?' 

'You will notice that many of the armored corpses were actually Orlesian,' Elspeth signed back easily. Outwardly calm, her hands shook slightly as she signed, and she leaned a little into Alistair. Normally I'd tease, but really, all of us were doing a bit of leaning. That had terrified everyone and it did not help with our exhaustion. 'Fereldans have a bad habit of not giving proper burial to the enemy.' 

'I bet they like that now,' Alistair signed, the slight bit of snarking lightening the mood. 'Oh, hey, there's cheering.' There was? 'It is inside, Cleon.' Oh, that was why I had no idea. 

Without really meaning too, all of us turned to Aiden. He sighed, shoulders moving a lot from the motion to convey how exasperated he really was, but he went up to the Chantry and opened the doors, peering inside. There was some sort of conversation, and when Aiden turned to face us, he was smiling bright enough to outshine the rising sun. 

'No one died.' All of us blinked slowly at the words and signs, so he repeated them, 'No one died. For the first time since the attacks started, no one died. We saved all of them.' A brief moment of staring, waiting for something, anything, to say 'Yeah, no, actually, they all died'. But it didn't come, and soon we were jumping and clapping, laughing and beaming as we hugged each other in celebration. 

It was… really nice to see us make a difference again. It made me feel stronger, surer. We could do this. We really could. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: And here we are with the attacking. Zevran's comment occurs when you tell Ser Perth about the oil. The Storm of the Century is _the_ most powerful spell in the game, a combination spell requiring Spell Might, Blizzard, and Tempest. It kills most everything. Including allies if you're on higher difficulties. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Redcliffe Castle with Layla 


	66. Chapter 57) Poisonous Friend

Chapter 57) Poisonous Friend 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_So, this was it. It was the first day of classes as an apprentice mage. I was the new one, and all eyes were on me as I entered the room. I wanted to run. I hated being the center of attention when I was simply a scion of the Amell family. Now, I was a mage._

_"You're Layla, right?" The first thing I saw was brown hair, and warm brown eyes. They matched his smile. "Scary when you first get here, but everyone's real nice. Mostly." He held out his hand. "I'm Jowan. It's nice to meet you." Hesitantly, I took his hand. It was as warm as his smile. "Here, I'll introduce you to the others. You'll be fine."_

_Holding his hand and seeing his smile, I could believe it._

* * *

"And there you go." I smiled as I healed the young boy's injuries. I had not gotten his name. "Be good to your sister, now," I told him. "She has been horribly worried." He grimaced, but nodded and bolted off to tackle her legs in a hug. My smile widened at their laughs and I stood, stretching. As I did so, I glanced at the lake and wondered how many corpses were still there, hiding below the surface. Should we just shoot lightning at it? Oh, but Teagan said that would kill the fish and really cause trouble. I was not sure how, but if it caused _more_ trouble, we should probably avoid it. 

Reminded of Teagan, I tried to find him in the crowd, and frowned when he was nowhere to be seen. This was the tenth time today he had ducked out of a healing. While he could be like Nuada, I felt like that was something to be said directly to me. It saved me some frustration, at least. 

Sighing, I stood, brushing off my skirt, and meandered through the village, trying to find Teagan. Cleon was helping some of the civilians with their archery, Morrigan by his side to translate his signs. Sten, Aiden, Alistair, and Nuada were helping to clear out rubble. Elspeth was assisting Wynne tend to the wounded villagers. Leliana and Zevran were keeping the others entertained, Leliana through songs and stories and Zevran through sleights of hand that almost looked like magic. All in all, the setting was rather cheerful, certainly more so than when we arrived. 

But I glanced at the sky, grimacing as I felt how thin the Veil was. We had to solve this quickly. Otherwise, they would simply be overrun again and again and again. 

My feet found the path up the hill and took me by the windmill. It was a good thing, since that was where Teagan was, absently fixing the bandages on his arms as he stared into the distance. 

I must have made some sort of noise, as he spoke without prompting. "Odd how quiet the castle looks from here." He glanced back at me with a small, sad smile. "You would think there was nobody inside at all," he murmured, focusing back on the castle. 

"Highever looked similarly empty," I replied. It was probably no comfort, but I had no other words. "You keep escaping treatment. Do you not wished to be healed?" 

"Mmm, I would not say that as I am too antsy to sit down long enough." He sighed and turned to face me. "I suppose it is causing you problems." 

"I simply wish to know." I smiled softly. "Nuada only wishes treatment for the worst of wounds, for instances, but it took quite a bit of arguing to learn that." 

"And I bet he talked around it for a long time." I simply kept up my smile. "I apologize, Lady Layla. I was simply checking the castle, and my plan." 

"Your plan?" What plan? 

"I had one to enter the castle." He did? "After the village was secured. I would not leave them just to satisfy my own selfishness." That sounded like something Nuada or Elspeth would say. Were all 'good' Fereldan nobles like that? "There is a secret passage here." He pointed to the windmill. "Its location is only truly known by my family. Nuada and Elspeth know _of_ it, but not where it is." Why did no one say anything? …No, I knew why. It was because otherwise, the villagers would be dead. He chose to keep it quiet until now solely for that reason. It was the sort of benevolent manipulation I had seen in Irving. "Maker's breath!" Startled, I whirled, fearing a corpse had stumbled up. But, instead, I found a red-haired woman dressed in a beautiful dress running down the path. Who was this? 

"Teagan!" Her voice was accented, similar to Leliana's, but thicker. She sounded close to tears, and her eyes were bloodshot and redrimmed as she ran right to him, ignoring me completely. "Thank the Maker you yet live," she breathed, smiling softly at him. Was this his wife? 

"Isolde! You're alive!" Teagan's smile was warm and bright, and I tried to remember where I heard the name before. "How did you…?" he began, before shaking his head. "No, never mind that." Oh, that was right. Isolde was the wife of Arl Eamon here. "What has happened?" 

"I do not have much time to explain." She was hesitant, nervous. "I slipped away as soon as I saw the battle was over, and I must return quickly." Was there a hostage situation? "And I need you to return with me, Teagan." Uh… "Alone." 

"I am horribly naïve, so perhaps I am wrong…" I began slowly. My instincts were screaming, and not just because of the torn Veil. "But this sounds like a trap to me." 

"What?" She focused on me, and gave me such a suspicious and distrustful look. "I…" She glanced at Teagan. "Who is this woman, Teagan?" she demanded. I blinked slowly, not quite sure what was going on. She was married to Arl Eamon, right? So, why did she sound so jealous? 

"Her name is Layla Amell, Lady Isolde." That answer came from Alistair, actually, and I turned to see him coming up the path. He looked so resigned about something. "Good day, my lady," he greeted, bowing slightly as he came to stand next to me. I gave him a reassuring smile. "You remember me, I think." 

The glare said 'yes'. "Alistair?" She sighed, face becoming disgusted. I bristled at it. "Of all the…" How dare she?! She just swooped down here, made demands, and then was insulting… Maker's blood, this woman was horrible! "Why are _you_ here?" …Was I having too bad a reaction for her disliking my friend? I did not think so…? 

"Alistair and Layla both came with their companions to assist us," Teagan answered, steering the conversation towards him. He did it so easily that I wondered if he had done it before. "Nuada and Elspeth are in the village, as well, and truly, their company is filled with kind and skilled people." I smiled at the praise. "I owe them my life, as does the village." It did not escape me that she had not asked about the villagers yet, despite being the lady of the lands here. It contrasted so sharply with Teagan's attitude. 

"…" Isolde sighed and curtseyed to us. "Pardon me," she mumbled. I was not sure if she was saying it because she truly thought it, or if she was just trying to gain favor from Teagan. "I would exchange pleasantries, but considering the circumstances…" 

"It is fine, Lady Isolde." I had no idea who was more startled by Alistair's reply: Isolde or Teagan. But both looked like something had hit them in the head. "But please, we had no idea anyone was even alive within the castle," he pointed out. His tone was the perfect mix of firmness and kindness. "If you can give us some answers, then we can help." 

"I…" She was nervous again. "I know. I know you need more of an explanation, but I…" She glanced at Teagan, silently begging him for help. "I don't know what is safe to tell." We originally thought rogue mage. Then we thought Loghain and Howe had used an apostate to rip open the Veil. Was it even _more_ complicated than that? "Let me think…" She wrung her hands, bit her lip. "There is… a terrible evil within the castle." I suspected demon. "The dead waken and hunt the living." We had seen this. "The mage responsible was caught, but still, it continues." Well, that was because the mage either did not end the spell or the demon went out of the mage's 'control'. "And I think… I think Connor is going mad." Her voice broke with a sob, and it took me only a second to remember that Connor was her son. If there was _anything_ good to say about her, it was that she was a kind mother. "We have survived, but he will not flee the castle. He has seen so much death…" 

"Connor is about twelve," Alistair whispered to me as Isolde's breath hitched, and she covered her face with her hands to hide the tears. Teagan reassuringly patted her on the shoulder, waiting for her to continue. "Very kind, very gentle. He used to toddle after me, actually, before I was sent away. Lady Isolde didn't much like that." Somehow, that did not surprise me. "Arl Eamon thought it hilarious." 

"You must help him, Teagan!" Whatever reply I might've had was cut off by Isolde's plea. "You are his uncle. You could reason with him." Where was his father? Was Arl Eamon…? "I do not know what else to do!" 

"Then is Arl Eamon dead?" Alistair sounded so resigned. I leaned into him supportively. 

"No, not yet." She was so hesitant, so unsure. I almost felt bad. "He is being kept alive so far, thank the Maker." That was… a strange phrase to use? Oh, this really was a hostage situation, was it not? 

"By what? The mage?" 

"No, something the mage unleashed." The _demon_ was keeping Arl Eamon alive? That sounded… unusual? "So far, it allows Eamon, Connor, and myself to live." Why? Why them? Something was wrong. "The others were not so fortunate. I tried keeping them safe in my rooms, but…" She shuddered. "It's killed so many, and turned their bodies into walking nightmares! Once it was done, it struck the village!" From there, the demon's influence crept into the bodies long kept below the soil. No wonder there had been so many corpses. "I do not know why this is happening." 

"If I may tell you a theory?" I hesitantly began. Teagan seemed to be thinking hard, so it was best to just give him the time, yes? "I believe this is the work of a demon." She gasped dramatically, hands flying to her mouth in wide-eyed horror. "The signs coincide well." 

"They do?" she asked softly, her voice fragile. At my nod, she started crying okay. "Oh, Maker, I can't let it hurt Connor or Eamon!" She turned to Teagan again. "You must come back with me! _Please_! If it does not find me… if it thinks I am betraying it or something…!" Then it was very possible the demon would kill Connor or Arl Eamon. 

"…Cailan is dead," Teagan finally whispered. He glanced briefly at Alistair before he closed his eyes, and I vaguely remembered King Cailan had been his nephew. "Bryce is dead. We need my brother more than ever." He nodded and opened his eyes, focusing on Isolde. "I will return to the castle with you, Isolde." She smiled warmly, even though she still cried. "Just give me a minute." She nodded and stepped away, up the castle way. 

"You mentioned a plan," I whispered as soon as she was out of earshot. Teagan nodded. "Are you counting on that?" 

"I have no illusions of dealing with this evil alone. Your group, on the other hand? I think you could save what remains." He took off his signet ring and passed it to Alistair. "I think you remember the way, Alistair. I snuck you out on a hunt through it." Alistair smiled sadly and nodded. "With luck, I can provide enough of a distraction for you to get inside." From there, we could become an even bigger distraction and make the demon focus on us, instead of the village. "Now, I want to make something clear." His eyes were deadly serious. "Eamon and Connor are the priority. If you have to…" I felt myself grow cold. I knew what he was saying. I did not like it. 

"We will save Redcliffe." I made my words firm, resolute. We had saved the Tower. We had saved the Dalish. We had saved Highever. We had saved Redcliffe Village. We would save the castle too. We were stronger than we had been in Ostagar. "Keep safe until then." 

"The Maker smiled on me indeed when you all arrived." Teagan's smile was soft. "Farewell, and good luck. Alistair, if we survive this… I recall owing you a drink since you're of age now." With that friendly goodbye, he left. We remained exactly where we were, watching until he was out of sight. 

"I think we need to get to the others now." Alistair sighed at some point. He held up the ring, watching it glint in the sunlight. "This seemed so much heavier when I was younger." 

"It is probably because you have to shoulder greater weights now," I pointed out. He sighed and nodded. "Have you…?" Was it my right to ask? I wanted to. Perhaps I should. It might not be the right time, but… "Have you thought more about taking the throne?" 

"I can't lead." 

"Aiden thought the same." I smiled slightly. "I think he is doing a good job, though, yes?" 

"True." He sighed. "Let me… think more. For the first time in my life, I actually get to choose my future." 

"You… never did before?" That seemed so confusing to me. Based on everything I have seen, a human male like Alistair should have had… most of the options. 

"I was a servant here, by virtue of Arl Eamon taking me in to cover my father's 'mistake'." He sounded a little bitter when he said 'my father'. I chose to not ask. "When I was ten, I was placed in the Chantry. When I was thirteen, they decided I was skilled enough with fighting to go into templar training. And six months ago, Duncan saved me from taking my vows by making me a Warden." Now his _smile_ was bitter. "I love being a Warden. But I didn't really get a choice in the matter." Actually, did any of us here? I was given, essentially, to the Wardens, to be spared a harsh fate for helping Jowan. Cleon had to join to not die, which I could not really call a 'choice', regardless of what Morrigan thought. Aiden had to join to not be strung up like a criminal for protecting his family. Nuada… was probably the only one who did choose, but even then, I do not think he had wanted to make that choice right then. Only our traveling companions were with us willingly. "So, I don't know what to do. I need to think." 

"Okay." I made my smile warm. "Let us rejoin the others." 

"Yeah. And Layla?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Thanks." 

What was he thanking me for? "Always, Alistair. Are we not friends?" I felt like teasing him, to lighten the mood. "Oh, but along those lines, would you like help wooing Elspeth?" 

"I think you need more help with Nuada." HEY! I-I did not…! Oh, my face was so red! "Wow, you look like a tomato." 

"Oh, quiet!" 

* * *

"Funny how secret passageways make such handy entrances, yes?" Zevran quipped as we stepped out of the tunnel into… some part of the castle. "And to the dungeons too! No wonder they kept it under lock and key. Jailbreak waiting to happen." 

"The doors are surprisingly sturdy," Alistair defended. He moved some crates out of the way and helped Wynne and me over some debris. "I locked myself in here, once, when I was a child. For an entire day. Ahhh, good times." I had many, many questions on the treatment he endured as a child. I truly did. 

"They might be sturdy, but I imagine a good spell could break the locks," Wynne murmured thoughtfully. She looked a little pale. "I forgot how much I hated tunnels." Oh, Wynne… "Regardless, shall we split up to find the stairs up?" 

"That's a good plan. I'm not sure if I remember the layout." Still, Alistair glanced at me and waited for my nod before committing. "Yes, let's do that. I'll take this path here." He pointed down a path. "I think it's the right one, but I'm not sure." 

"Well, we are at a convenient fork," I pointed out. We really were. There were only three paths to take. "So, Zevran goes one way, I go the other, and Wynne accompanies whoever she wants." She immediately stepped closer to Alistair. I was not surprised. "Shout if you find the door?" 

"Sounds good." Alistair prodded my cheek, even as Zevran winked and dashed off already. "Use your sword while you're here." I grimaced at the thought. It _felt_ clunky on my hip. "You should get used to using it during a fight, and killing the dead seems like a good way." I nodded reluctantly, already feeling sick to my stomach. "See you soon." 

"Careful everyone." I waved goodbye and started down the remaining path. I drew my sword as I did, disliking how heavy it felt. At least it was not impossibly heavy. Nuada had made sure to give me exercises to do every other day to strengthen my arms and wrist. I was also fairly confident I could use it without hurting myself. But the idea of slicing a person…? Well, it was not any less moral than crushing them with magic. 

Sounds caught my ear and I felt ill to my stomach as I realized something else. I would be fighting alone. It was only us four in the castle for now. The others were in the village, waiting to make sure no corpses would attack while we snuck around. I had not fought alone… in a very long while. Had I ever? But I had to now. I refused to die. So I took a deep breath, stepped around the corner to find the undead trying to swarm a cell, and swung at the closest one. 

I nearly threw up at the feeling of slicing through flesh. I nearly let go as the _jolt_ as the sword cracked against bone. And this was a corpse, something without blood, so it was cleaner than normal. 

I… had to do this. So I ground my teeth, set my stance, and ripped the blade out to shove it straight through the corpse's skull, shattering it. And then I whirled to decapitate the next one, to slice off the limbs of the one after that. 

It was a bloodless carnage. As I stood among the re-killed corpses, I could understand why Alistair had wanted me to practice _now_. Now, I had another step to stand on. Now, I would not have to go straight from sparring to killing, blood spurting all over me as it had at Highever Castle. This was _my_ memory, not the ancient being who forced his memories on me. I could do it alone. It would not be a vague instinct controlling me. It would be _myself_. 

Breathing in deep, settling my nerves, I sheathed the sword and glanced around the area. They had been trying to attack something in that cell. Why? Was someone-? 

"Hello?" I froze. I knew that voice. I knew that voice very, very well. "Is there someone out there?" Oh, Maker, why? Why _him_? "Who is it?" Unable to say anything, I moved in front of the cell, just staring at him. "By all that's holy…!" He stared right back. I wondered how I looked to him. He looked thinner, ragged. "You…?" He reached up. I saw the scar in his hand. "I can't believe…" 

"Jowan?" My voice shook. This was no specter, no ghost conjured by a demon. This was really him. 

"Maker's breath, how did you get here?" He kept staring. And I stared back. Neither of us knew how to react. "I… never thought I'd see you again, of all people." 

"The feeling is mutual." My fingers twitched at my side, and some part of me was screaming, reminding me of the threat I had made last time I saw him. But I could not bring up the energy to act on it. "What are you doing here?" 

"Well, this is standard treatment for all traitors and would-be assassins." What. "I wouldn't be surprised if they sent you to finish me off. Poetic, yeah?" He was…? 

"You are the mage Isolde mentioned?" He nodded and I could only stare. "Jowan, _what did you do_?!" My voice echoed harshly, and I heard frantic footsteps come for me. But I could not react to them. It took everything I had to not break down in sobs. 

"I… poisoned the arl." JOWAN! "For all I know, he's dead already." He relayed it clinically, like a report for a teacher. He seemed too tired and defeated to react any more. 

Automatically, I opened my mouth to reassure him. I hesitated before actually doing it. "He is not, if Isolde is telling the truth." 

"Really?" He smiled, face lighting up. The smile just made me ill. "What a relief." 

"Jowan." 

"Yes, I know." He sighed, smile falling. "I know. And I know what you must think of it. I am the blood mage. Of course I'd set a demon on-" 

"You are too stupid to even think that." He winced and I glared. "What is happening? What is going on? Tell me." 

"…Can I ask one thing first?" He gave me a pleading look. I knew what he wanted to ask. 

"They took Lily to Aenor." He flinched. "I tried to stop it, but she took her punishment with her head held high." She accepted her fate, worse than death. He had run, to save his life, and what did he do with it? He _poisoned someone_? 

"My poor Lily… I condemned you both." It was a little late for guilt, Jowan. I would have told him it if I did not feel like crying. "And what happened to you? Were you all right?" 

"I am a Warden, now, and I am a survivor of Ostagar." He flinched again. "I have been through more battles than I can count, and I have grown in ways I did not want." 

"I can tell." His smile was bitter. I much preferred it. "Your glare is actually terrifying now." Well, that was a relief. "And you're wearing a sword." Yes, I was. "Now, tell me what happened." 

"Right." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was already imprisoned when the killing and corpses began. I didn't even know what was going on until Lady Isolde came here demanding I reverse what I'd done." What was he doing here anyway, though? "I thought she meant my poisoning of the arl, so I told her I couldn't. I didn't even make the poison, so I didn't have an antidote." 

"Of course you did not make it. You were always rubbish at potion-making." 

"Yeah, you and Anders had to help me. I paid you back." Yes, I knew that. He repaid us with jokes and stories, laughter and excuses out of trouble. We four had always been so, so close. Now look at us. "So, that's the first you heard about it?" 

"Yeah, there aren't any others down here, and no corpses made it down until recently." He sighed again. "She thought I'd summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe." 

"Well, you learned blood magic from a demon." 

"Actually, I learned from Uldred." What. "I suppose you should slip that to-" 

"Uldred is dead. He nearly destroyed the Tower." He flinched and I hesitated before adding, "it will be fine. And Neria was alive when I left." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Continue please." 

"Well, not much more on that front. Tortured me for answers, but since I had none, she left me here to rot." I… oh, I had so many words for Isolde. I truly did. 

But there was something far more important to ask. "Why did you poison the arl?" 

"I was instructed to, by Teyrn Loghain." Oh. So that was how he was involved. But how did he meet Jowan? "He came to visit me, after the templars caught me and brought me to Denerim for execution." So, he had been caught? Where were the templars that had held him though? "He told me Arl Eamon was a threat, that if I helped he'd help me with the Circle." 

"The Chantry would never allow that." 

"I didn't want to _stay_ at the Circle. I just wanted to go back and apologize." Did he think an apology would fix things, make it right? I did not want an apology! "But I've been abandoned here, right? Everything's fallen apart again." He covered his face. "That's how many mistakes? How many people disappointed? I wish I could go back in time." 

"That is impossible." 

"Yes, but it's the only way to make everything _right_ again." 

"I would not trust you to try." 

"…I deserved that one." He laughed bitterly. "I really deserved that one." 

He did. But I would stay focused. My head felt a mess, but I would stay focused. "How did you even get in here, though?" 

"That's…" He hesitated before shaking his head. "Connor is a mage." What. "Lady Isolde was terrified the Circle would take him away for training." Well, that was the law. "So, she sought an apostate to teach her son in secret. Her husband had no idea." 

"So you tricked someone _again_ by using their kindness against them?" I thought of Lily, clutched the bracelet she gave me. "How many people must you poison, Jowan?" 

"I know." He groaned. "Arl Eamon is a decent man. I wondered how he could possibly be the threat Loghain said he was, but I did it anyway." He sighed. Yet again. "I'm such a fool." I would not argue that. "Layla-" 

"If you try to manipulate me again, Jowan, so help me…!" I glared at him and he flinched back. "I should just leave you here!" 

"So, I am spared, but not this pitiful man?" I squeaked and whirled to find Zevran behind me. When had he…? Ah, that was right. There had been footsteps. He must have been watching since then. "Is that truly fair?" he asked me. I simply glared at him. "What? No kind words from the gentle healer?" 

"Zevran, what are you getting at?" I demanded, facing him fully. "This is…!" This was Jowan being stupid, again. This was him hurting people, again. 

"I am simply asking, dear Layla, if you are truly thinking." Of course I-!" "Or are you reacting?" I… had no reply to that. I wanted Nuada here. I wanted Aiden here. I wanted Cleon here. But neither was. In this scenario, I was the leader. "That's all." He patted me on the head, surprisingly gentle. I wanted to cry. "You don't want to have regrets hanging on you. It is very painful." I doubted I would regret…! …No, I would. I would, because… 

"You are mean." Zevran chuckled softly and I turned to glare at Jowan. He stared back. "…I have not forgiven you." He flinched. Again. "I doubt I ever will." But I cast a fire spell to melt the lock and opened the cell. He blinked slowly at me. "You will stay with Wynne." I felt sick. I wanted to bawl. "Come on then. "Even though I could not forgive him… even though I wanted to hate him _so much_ … I still cared for him dearly. This was Jowan, my first friend, my brother in all but blood. 

Everything hurt. Someone, get this toxin out of my head, please. 

* * *

Alistair's memory had proven true, and he led the way outside. Wynne had gone cold and glary when she saw Jowan, but she accepted her role as his keeper. Zevran joked her into a better mood by making her exasperated with him instead. Alistair made sure he was between Jowan and me at all times as we made our way through the halls and into the courtyard. 

Of course, the courtyard was teeming with corpses. Thankfully, our group was just on the other side of the very easily opened gate. Though, I did wonder how they knew to be there? 

'Don't look so shocked.' I blinked slowly as Cleon suddenly appeared in front of me. His smile was soft as he gave me a quick hug. 'We had someone keeping guard here too,' he signed. 'It didn't take long to get everyone up.' Oh, I see. 'Are you okay?' 

"…I have been better," I admitted, signing slower than I probably should. Cleon just gave me another hug. "But I will be okay for now. I promise." 

'Well, you are better than _some_ people in our group about that word.' I wondered why he did not use names, but then smiled when I saw Elspeth was walking up. 'I wonder who.' 

"I am much better than Nuada, thank you," Elspeth noted with a little bit of dignity. I almost laughed. "Cleon, join up with Zevran. You are going to guard Leliana as she picks open the gate." Could gates be picked open? "Redcliffe relies too much on its gates to fuss about how easily the locks are picked." 

'Is that not bad?' 

"If you want, I can recite the long list of sieges Redcliffe has survived over the ages." This time, I did laugh. I felt so much better. "I'm paired with Alistair, so-" 

"I bet you like that!" I teased, unable to help it. 

"Shall I tell Nuada you wish to be by his side forever?" Flustered as I was, I was still glad she was playing. "Cleon, you can stop smirking." 

'Why? I have such a delightful smirk.' Elspeth and I exchanged a look at Cleon's signs. 'Sten is glaring.' Of course he was. That said… well, the others were fighting, and we were decidedly… not. 'I'm off.' 

"As am I," Elspeth whispered. She patted me on the shoulder and gave me a small smile. "I will tell him you were reporting, so that he doesn't give you a lecture." That would be good. 

She slipped into the battle easily, arrows flying. I watched the battle, trying to get numbers and, more importantly, to see if there were any 'special' corpses about. An arcane horror would be a nightmare right now, for instance. As would… 

"Layla." Oh, there was Nuada. He moved to keep me on his blind side. "Everything all right?" he asked. I gave him a look and gestured around. "Yes, let me rephrase that. Are you all right aside from the ever so rude corpses that do not understand this is Redcliffe, not a Nevarran Crypt?" Smiling slightly, I nodded. "All right." He pointed to some armored people I did not recognize. "Aiden got the knights to come with us. No, I don't know how. Sten thought it impressive, which should tell you a _lot_." That it did! "However, I have a question about something." Hmm? "What in bloody flames is that?" 

He pointed to a heavily armored undead, and I shivered. "That… is a revenant, I believe," I whispered, hugging myself to try and calm my shaking. I had been afraid of this. "Its presence implies we have a desire or pride demon pulling the strings. They are very powerful undead." This was bad. "Leave it to Morrigan and me." Wynne was busy with Jowan. "You _must_ stay out of range and deal with them quickly. I believe we will be best for that." 

"Please don't call down that storm on us again." I scowled, and he laughed. He ruffled my hair, and my heart skipped a beat when his fingers trailed down my cheek. He stared a moment, just a heartbeat, and then he was off, sliding to guard Aiden's side as an undead tried to rip his abdomen open. Aiden reacted easily, shifting to make sure he covered Nuada's blind side as he cut down three corpses with a swing. The two quickly coordinated with Sten to mark a 'center' of the field. 

Hunting through the chaos, I bolted for Morrigan, snagging her by the arm. "We must deal with the revenant!" I explained, pointing for emphasis. Aiden and Nuada were yelling for everyone to clear away from it. I flinched as it used magic to draw someone close anyone, and crushed them in a single blow. "Quickly!" 

"You do not know 'entropy' spells, do you?" she asked. I shook my head, grimacing. I was _horrible_ with entropy spells. Anders and I had commiserated over it while learning. "Petrification? Freezing?" 

"Immune to nature and ice spells." We had to think fast. "Oh, I think they are weak to fire." 

"I will trap it in a barrier if you will cast the fire spell. You are much more proficient in them than I." Something about that just felt ironic. "Ready?" 

Nodding, I took a deep breath, and focused. I sensed where Morrigan laid out the barrier and I focused my magic within those boundaries. When the magic peaked, I released it, sparking an inferno. The fire whipped about in a tornado and the revenant screeched horribly as it was set aflame. It tried to run, but crashed right into Morrigan's barrier. She had snapped it up right after I unleashed my spell, to ensure it would not interfere with my casting. Both of us focused everything we had in maintaining our spells. I had to keep mine burning until the revenant was nothing but ash. Morrigan had to hold her barrier to make sure it did not crash through. We were both shaking, panting, sweat dripping down our faces. 

We both breathed sighs of relief when it finally died, and shared a smile when we dispelled the spells so the ash could catch on the wind. Then we started giggling for no other reason than the gleeful aftermath of a successful casting of difficult spells. It was inappropriate for the situation, but it was also a reflex. 

A whistle caught our attention and we turned to see the others waving for us. The other corpses were dead, and the doors had been blasted open. Nodding, we caught up with the group easily and raced inside the castle with barely a word to each other. Just as silently, Nuada, Elspeth, and Alistair took the lead, taking us right to the receiving room. 

There, we saw Teagan, dancing around like some demented jester. We saw knights lining the walls, staring into nothing. We saw Isolde standing by a gilded chair, slumped over, defeated. We saw a young boy sitting in that gilded chair, clapping and laughing. I could sense the magic in him. It was strong and bright, like a beacon in the dark. But the echo in his voice, and the shadows in the power also _screamed_ what had happened. He had been possessed. He was an abomination. 

Maker, I fucking hated you. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: And here we meet the villain of the Redcliffe arc. And poor Layla meeting Jowan again and getting some old scars ripped open. (And cursing for the first time? Not so certain on that one.)   
>  Revenants, according to the wiki, have high armor, health, regeneration, and defense. And a weakness to fire. And immunity to ice, nature, stun, knockdown, flanking, backstabbing, and +X damage vs. undead effects. 
> 
> Dragon Age 2 had some mages (i.e. not Hawke) have spell trees inaccessible to them. I'm doing the same here, with Layla. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Connor's Fate with Aiden 


	67. Chapter 58) Lost Child

Chapter 58) Lost Child 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"Why is it that Eamon never brings Connor up for the Landsmeet?" I heard a guest ask. Normally, I wouldn't be anywhere near a banquet, not high enough on the servant hierarchy, but the guests were drinking a great deal of wine, so I'd been asked to bring up some more. "I don't see how he plans on marrying his son off if he keeps him hidden in Redcliffe all the time."_

_"It's all Isolde's fault." Another guest sneered the name. "You know how he dotes on her. I guess he's has exotic tastes."_

_"However can he stand her horrid accent, I shall never know. Grates my ears. And poor Connor, with Orlesian blood in his veins."_

_"Better not let Bryland hear you on that. Or, worse, Teyrn Cousland. You know how good of friends they are."_

_"But it is a stain on him. He can make it up in personality and wit, but the boy is just always hidden. Like there's a big secret." The first guest was warming up to the topic. I half-wondered if Arl Eamon kept his son away to avoid this sort of gossip. "Maybe the foreign blood brought something on him. This is why Fereldan should keep to itself."_

_"How very curious." I glanced at the third voice and noticed it was Teyrn Cousland himself, smiling politely. "I'm greatly curious by your conversation," I heard him say lightly, gently. The two other guests looked terrified. "Connor is simply a shy lad, so I don't know why you wish to add false things to him." The smile grew. "But, truly, I'm interested in your talk about foreign blood. My grandmother was a Pentaghast, after all." Pentaghast? Never heard of them. "Why not discuss things with me instead of maiming a young boy's reputation, yes?"_

_I finally delivered the bottles and escaped the hall. I felt grimy, hearing those two talk so horribly about a little boy they had never met. What a poor, poor child._

* * *

There were so many things wrong with this scene. So many. Suffice to say, things in Redcliffe were far more complicated than expected. Which, of course, we should've expected. Just look at the demons in the Tower and werewolves in the forest. Only Highever wasn't needlessly dramatic. 

"So, these are our visitors?" A child's voice echoing inside a voice more ancient than air. That was what Connor sounded like as he sneered at us. He didn't even move from his chair. "The ones you told me about, Mother?" he continued, glancing at Isolde. It was obvious to anyone just who was in charge here. Maker, I hated you. "The ones that defeated my soldiers, the ones I sent to reclaim my village?" Oh, this was so messed up. "What a mess of a group." Okay, I wasn't tolerating insults to them. 

"What a mess of a court," I immediately deadpanned. I was the leader. I'd take care of the talking. Still, I glanced at Lord Nuada and Cleon and signed, 'come up with a plan.' They nodded and immediately started signing to each other. I focused my attention back on Connor. "But shall we play?" I bowed, precisely as an elf normally would to a lord. I looked him in the eye, though, something that would've gotten me beaten before. I wasn't afraid. "Greetings, little lord. I am Aiden Tabris." 

"Hello." The child's voice was a little louder there. "Mother, what is he?" Now that was a question I didn't hear often. "I can't see him well enough." He couldn't? Why? 

"He is just a man, Connor," Isolde whispered. I saw her hands twitch at her side, wanting to hold her son. But this… wasn't her son, was it? "Like your Father." 

"Oh, I'm tired of hearing about him!" Connor scoffed, flailing a little like a child throwing a tantrum. "Besides, he's nothing like Father. Strong, breathing, and not dying in the slightest." There were so many replies to that. "I could change that, mind you." All I could think at the moment was that this child wasn't scarier than a werewolf. 

"Connor." This time, Isolde rested her hand on Connor's shoulder. "I beg you. Don't hurt anyone." Like that was going to work! 

"M-mother?" Wait. Wait, what? I didn't hear an echo. I just heard a child's voice as Connor swayed in his seat. "What's going on?" THAT ACTUALLY WORKED?! SINCE WHEN DOES SHIT LIKE THAT WORK?! "Where am I?" 

"Connor!" Isolde wrapped Connor up in a hug, even as he still swayed. Well, I couldn't _quite_ call her delusional about protecting her child if things like this happened! "Oh, Connor, can you hear me?" She sounded ready to cry. "Can you truly?" 

"GET AWAY FROM ME, FOOL WOMAN!" And Isolde went flying. Right into the wall. Layla and Wynne immediately ran for her. I glanced back and noticed the strange, mousy mage named Jowan had been thrown to Sten for guarding. Ha… oh, Wynne must be mad at him over something. "Don't move!" That order was addressed to us. None of us listened. Instead, we spread out, mostly to make sure we wouldn't all be taken out in one attack. "You're beginning to bore me." What a tragedy. 

"Yeah, you never did like court much." That was Lord Nuada. A glance to me, and I stepped back to let him talk. "Hey, Connor," he greeted with a smile. "It's Nuada. You remember me?" Connor blinked slowly. "So, you saved your father? Is that what happened?" 

"Father is alive, just as I wanted," Connor declared. The echo in his voice was louder. "And now it is my time to sit on the throne. Nobody tells me what to do anymore!" Ah, a child's rebellion gone horrifically wrong. 

"Nobody tells him what to do!" Oh, dear Maker, I forgot all about Teagan. He was just sitting on the steps. "Nobody!" he repeated, cackling. What happened to him? 

"Shut up, Uncle." Connor throw something at Teagan, cracking him on the head. Blood hit the floor as Teagan fell. Welp. "I warned him what would happen if he kept shouting." Connor sighed, leaning back in the chair. "But let's keep things civil." This was civil? "Nuada, why have you come?" 

"We came to see you, Connor." It was Lady Elspeth who answered. She smiled softly as she came to stand next to Lord Nuada. Connor blinked slowly again. "It has been a bit," she continued. I glanced back and signed to Cleon, asking what was going on. The only reply I got was 'wait'. It was signed multiple times, to everyone in the group. "We have been worried." 

"So, you are a concerned well-wisher?" While the wording was too formal, I swore the child's voice sounded louder this time. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? All this sneaking and killing was unnecessary." That last part definitely had the child's voice louder. "Father is so very ill. I fear what all this will do to him. We really mustn't disturb him." 

"Like releasing all the mabari hounds in the castle?" Alistair stepped up then. Connor actually froze. "It's… been a long time, Connor," he murmured, smiling. "I doubt you remember me. But, I used to look after you, when everyone was too busy." Blinking slowly. Swaying. "It's Alistair." I saw him mouth the name. "I chased the nightmare monsters away. Guess I missed one, huh?" 

"Shut up!" I tensed, hand going for my weapon. The knights along the wall did the same. I wasn't sure how much I liked the idea of fighting them, but if we had to… "I crave excitement. HELP ME!" I nearly yelped as the echoing voice was nearly swallowed up by the child's. I definitely jumped back. And nearly stepped on Zevran's foot. I signed an apology, and he waved it away. His wide eyes showed his own fear. "Action! I'M SORRY!" Back and forth. Back and forth. The echo and the child, fighting for the same body, right in front of me. "You stole it from me! PLEASE, HELP ME!" The knights along the wall swayed and buckled. "Spoiled my sport! IT'S EATING ME!" Oh, this was so wrong. "You'll repay me for it! I DON'T WANT TO HURT ANYONE!" This was so very, very wrong. 

Chills screamed down my spine at the throat-tearing _screech_ Connor loosed. Not human at all, and he was shaking, flailing, twisting. Fighting something I couldn't even see with tears streaming down his face. 

"DON'T COME NEAR!" With that shout, in only the child's voice, Connor fled. I automatically tried to follow, but someone snagged my back. When I turned to look, I saw it was Layla. 

"If you go near, the demon might resurface," she whispered. I nodded, accepting that, and looked around the area. The knights had all collapsed. Isolde was helping Teagan up. Hadn't they both been... "Both are healed." Ah, of course. That made sense. Now, what in bloody flames just happened with Connor? 

"Well, that worked far more creepily than I expected," Lord Nuada noted lightly. He flashed me a grin when I gave him a dirty look. I saw how pale he was. He'd been scared too. "Cleon? That normal?" 

'As if I know what is normal about magic,' Cleon instantly signed back, his droll look adding dryness to the signs. 'But I remember Merrill rambling to me about how possessed mages can temporarily regain control if confronted with people they associate with safety.' 

"Yeah, I got that." Either Layla or I made a noise of confusion, and Lord Nuada turned to face us. I almost smiled at how he went the long way about in circling, mostly so he could keep his blind side next to a trusted person at all times. "Elspeth and I have often helped him when other nobles bullied him." Ah, yes, I remembered the gossip. "Alistair was his protector as a child, though. I thought it would… well…" A child's memory was powerful. "Alistair, scale of one to ten, how badly did that plan freak you out?" 

"You really want me to answer that?" Alistair immediately deadpanned. It got a small ripple of laughter. "Also, when did Jowan escape Sten?" What. "See? He's talking with Lady Isolde and Bann Teagan." That he was. Arguing, more like, really. But still. 

"Oh, was I supposed to keep him from moving?" Sten asked lightly when I glanced at him. He looked so _done_ with all of this. I couldn't blame him one bit. "My apologies. Should I have cut off his legs?" I didn't know what was worse. The joke, or that I laughed at it. Leliana certainly gave me a dirty look for it. "Should you not just go and kill the boy?" 

"Absolutely not," Leliana snapped. She glared at Morrigan when she tried to say something. "He is a child. A child that can be saved." Hopefully? It sounded nice, but when the three mages and the former templar in the group looked skeptical… well, I had my doubts. After all, they knew a lot more about this than the rest of us. 

"Pardon?" Oh, Teagan was addressing us. And he didn't look very happy. Then again, why would he? "Jowan has offered some possibilities that might not involve killing Connor," he explained. I gaped at little, surprised, but Jowan didn't clarify Teagan's statement. He simply snagged Layla by the arm and tugged her off to the wall, leaving Teagan to continue explaining. I saw that they immediately fell into a whispered argument, with sharp gestures and sharper eyes. What were they talking about? "Something about going into the Fade?" 

"That would work, in theory," Alistair answered slowly. He still looked hesitant. As did Wynne and Morrigan. "If I'm remembering my lessons right, the demon isn't exactly in Connor, but more has his spirit caught in the Fade. There are instances where the templars would send a mage into the Fade to combat the demon and server the connection there, with no damage to the physical body." I was actually surprised there were instances of this, based on everything I heard. "But that requires massive amounts of lyrium." 

"Or massive amounts of blood." Huh? "Jowan is a blood mage. He can, apparently, replicate the power of lyrium and several mages by killing one person and burning their life-energy." …HOW POWERFUL WAS BLOOD MAGIC?! NO WONDER THE IMPERIUM TOOK OVER EVERYTHING! "Isolde has already offered to be the sacrifice." I… actually had some respect for that. Especially since she nodded firmly to confirm Teagan's words. She wasn't afraid at all. "Regardless, it's up to you." Why? "You are the only ones with mages in your group." Oh. That was why. Everything up to us. Again. 

"We could go to the Tower and get lyrium." That… was true. Alistair had a point there. "So, we have… what? Three options?" Kill Connor, kill Isolde, or go to the Tower. 

It was obvious the most legal option would be to go to the Tower. However, the Tower was still recovering, barely had lyrium because of how much burned with Uldred's 'renovations' that still lingered on the walls or so I had been told, and was filled with the wounded and the dead, far more the latter than the former. Not to mention the Tower was a good three days walk away, and that was with us healthy people. How much havoc would be unleashed in that time? But the other options were to sacrifice Isolde, who was responsible for this chaos but only because she tried to protect her son, or kill Connor for trying to save his father when his mother's trust was betrayed twice over. 

"Actually, there is a fourth option and that is what we shall go with." Mistress Layla's words cracked through the air, despite their softness. When I looked over, I saw tearstains on her face. Jowan looked almost content. What in the Void was-? " _I_ will perform the ritual," she declared. I could only stare in shock, my thoughts clunking to a stop. "Jowan will be the sacrifice." Oh. Oh wow. Uh… didn't expect that. The echoing silence hinted no one else. 

"Layla, you can't…" Wynne was the first to recover. She stepped towards Layla, raising her hand entreatingly. "That would require you becoming a blood mage," she whispered. "No good can come from blood magic. We can go to the Tower and-" 

"There is not any _time_!" Wynne flinched back from Layla's retort. I noticed Jowan staring at her like he wasn't quite sure who he was looking at. I didn't check anyone else's reactions. "With every passing moment, the chances of saving Connor diminish." It did? "Contact with a demon leaves irrevocable scars. Your lessons taught me that, Wynne." Layla's eyes blazed with certainty. She had decided. She wasn't asking for advice. This was her stating, exactly, what she was going to do. And she was being kind enough to give us an explanation for why. "If we delay much longer, it is possible there will not be a Connor to save." If that was the case, then going to the Tower would be meaningless. The whole point would be to save Connor willingly. "We cannot rely on a miracle. We must _make_ one, as we have ever since Ostagar fell." Saving the Tower. Saving the Dalish. Saving Highever. Saving Redcliffe Village. Yes, those were all miracles. And we did it on our own. "So, I will perform the Ritual. It is as simple as that." 

"Layla…" Okay, no. I was going to step in. "Please." Because this made sense. Because I trusted Layla. "Listen to me." And, honestly, even if I had been taught all my life that blood magic was evil, I had also been taught that an elf could _never_ lead. And look where I was. 

Besides… No good can come from it? I'd bet _anything_ that if anyone could shatter that belief, it would be Layla. 

"This isn't a tyranny." My words were very soft. "Everyone in this group is free to stay or go as they please, regardless of the reasons," I continued, keeping calm, keeping quiet. It _made_ them listen. It made everyone look and listen. "Mistress Layla has determined it is the best course of action." And I would stand by her. "So, if you completely disagree, then you are free to leave." I glared, feeling far more confident than I should. "Question, make us think, but if you cannot think of a better option, then shut up." My voice was still quiet, firm. "We recruited Zevran over protests. We saved Lothering over protests." I hesitated before adding, "And you saved the Circle mages over protests, despite the very real risk of blood mages living among the survivors." She flinched. I kept talking. "We'll use this solution to the conflict over protests. Leave if it bothers you so much, but if you wish to stay and fight by our side, _be quiet_. The decision has been made." 

Even with that, Wynne looked ready to continue arguing with Layla. But Nuada and Cleon blocked her view, silently doing the same thing I was. Standing with Layla. We were the leaders of this group. We had been through far too much chaos to not have complete trust in each other. 

"Layla, can you learn the Ritual quickly?" That was Lady Elspeth. While it could be her stoicism, she seemed completely indifferent to the conflict. "The best argument for the Ritual is the time it saves," she continued, definitely ignoring the startled looks thrown her way. "So, can you learn it quickly?" 

"Blood magic is the easiest of magic to learn," Mistress Layla replied softly. She smiled bitterly. "I already know what to do." 

"Then, I suppose dissenters can step out of the room." Lady Elspeth sounded even calmer than me. "They can decide if it is too amoral for them to stay or not then as well. I consider it the more moral choice here, personally." …Yeah. I thought so too. "The death of one man, by atypical means, will spare an entire village of civilians and what remains of the castle. Assuming we took the longer, more legal, method, we run a high risk of everyone dying, including the person we are trying to save. That would make our group less trustworthy in the eyes of the people, who might begin to believe Loghain's lies with 'proof' in front of them of how we 'callously abandoned Redcliffe to its fate'." She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, looking thoughtful. "Not only would that make it harder to win allies, but it will also shake the morale of those we win. They would wonder if they will be abandoned too, on top of the loss of morale that results from leaders and family being slaughtered. Shaken morale in troops will lead to less effective battles, resulting in more casualties, civilian and soldier alike." Okay. Had to admit. I did _not_ think of all that. But I was proud I had thought some of it. "The loss of soldiers and civilians make it less likely for the nobles to side with us, lengthening the civil war, and making us all far more susceptible to the Blight. In short, the 'legal' way runs a higher risk of Fereldan dying." Which we were _desperately_ fighting against. "But Layla's courage can solve the problem right now." Exactly. 

"Besides, she and the mousy mage there are childhood friends, yes?" I was startled that Zevran was weighing in, and he looked far more serious than I had _ever_ seen him. "They're in the middle of some sort of argument or trouble, but that fact remains," he continued, ignoring the baffled looks sent his way. "And there's obviously still great affection between them, even after whatever happened." I saw both Jowan and Mistress Layla flinch. "So, she is consciously choosing to use a magic she has been raised to hate and fear, consciously choosing to sacrifice her friend and likely what peace of mind she might have, to save a young boy who made a mistake. And the castle and villagers who are paying the price for it." He shrugged. "That's rather brave. And sexy." Of course. Of course he threw that in. I was glad. It cracked a smile out of most of us. "But that's just my opinion, as a former assassin." 

But it had the effect. Between the two of them, the tension was shattered. Wynne stepped back, drooping. Admitting defeat. But I doubted she'd cooperate. Therefore… 

"Morrigan," I called. She glanced at me. "We're counting on you." 

"Of course you are," she sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. "Tis a foolish decision all around." But she stepped up anyway. "Tell me what I must do. Let us get it over with." 

"First, we should clear the center area." It disturbed me that Jowan gave the instructions. After all, this was going to kill him. But maybe that was why. He was choosing his death. Might as well plan it to the end. "Layla and I will stand there, and you don't want to be near. Layla's always been powerful, and this is… well, it's just going to increase it." Oh. "Morrigan, was it? You'll be behind me. That'll just make it faster for Layla." 

We did as he asked, standing far back. All of us were perfectly silent as Layla held her hands out, silvery light appearing to wrap around Jowan. I saw him smile, thought I saw him mouth something. Layla flinched, took a deep breath, and gestured. 

I couldn't help but shake as Jowan suddenly lifted into the air, limbs contorting as bones audibly snapped. In the silence, his last gasp of life echoed eerily. 

He hit the ground, a broken mess, and crimson light wrapped around Morrigan. She collapsed too, but far more gently. She was breathing, eyes shut. Jowan was still, eyes staring. He was still smiling. 

"It is done," Layla whispered, confirming what we saw. She would not look away from the corpse. "Now, it is up to Morrigan." 

Then everything would be fine. I… knew it. 

* * *

"Lady Elspeth?" I hadn't actually been planning on talking with her, but had run into her while patrolling the hallways, checking there were no corpses coming to kill us. "Do you mind if I ask a question?" But since she was here, coming from the opposite direction, I might as well take advantage of it. 

"I only hope I have the answer to it," she replied easily. She stepped to the side, so that we weren't blocking the way for anyone else trying to come down the hallway. "Connor seems quiet still, by the way. I just got back from checking." Good. 

"I'm glad to hear that." Morrigan had been in the Fade for a long while. I could only hope she could handle herself. "Ah, but my question. I wondered how you came up with that scenario?" 

"Do you mean when I was arguing morals?" I nodded and she hummed a little in thought. "It is knowing people. I studied how to govern, and that requires being able to accurately predict reactions." Leading sounded like it needed that as well. "The skill was… sharpened in Orlais." Her voice faltered a bit, even though her expression didn't waver. "I just focused on what I thought would be the likeliest scenario if we did not, and then focused on what I thought would be the worst-case-scenario, and combined the two for my analysis." That didn't sound simple. It _did_ sound like what Lord Nuada and Cleon did for tactics. "Besides, in this way, there is only one death, not two." Two? "Jowan is a blood mage who attempted to assassinate Arl Eamon. He'd be put to death." Oh. Jowan was dead either way. He just picked the way he went, fixing his last mistake as best as anyone could. "I can explain in more detail later, but it will be extensive." Yeah, not up for that now. I was tired enough. 

Still… "Yeah, something tells me I need to get some skill in this." The joys of leadership. "Might I ask another question?" 

"Aiden, truly, you do not need to be so formal." 

"In that case, Lady Elspeth, I have another question." She laughed a little. "What do you think about the use of blood magic?" I had a feeling this would be an issue that rankled our group for a while. I needed to know where people stood. 

"Mmm…" She became thoughtful. "I am uncertain. Living abroad in so many countries has taught both Nuada and I that what we consider amoral and strange is simply a part of a culture. At the same time, though, you must remember the Imperium and all that they wrought with blood magic." I nodded and she sighed a little. "So, I do not know about blood magic. However, I know and trust Layla." 

"So, if Jowan had been the one…" 

"I might not have been nearly as supportive." She smiled wryly, admitting it easily. "In fact, I know I would not. What of you?" 

"I stay out of magic debates," I immediately deadpanned. It got me a little laugh. "I don't know anything about it except all the rumors 'everyone' knows. Most of which seem stupid." 

"That is quite true. It would also be good to remember that the Chantry, essentially, was founded by a people who lived in terror of magic, thanks to the Imperium." And what did you do with enemies? You made them and everything associated with them monsters. Monsters were easier to kill than people. "Would you like me to smooth things over with anyone? You will be very busy soon." 

"If you could handle Alistair and Sten?" Alistair had not said a word, but he was raised by the Chantry. I couldn't imagine him liking this. And Sten… well, he hated magic at the best of times. 

"I certainly do not mind." She gave me a kind smile. "I shall see you later, Aiden." She waved as she walked past, going to her original destination. Waving back, I continued down my own original path. When I found a balcony, I stepped out to enjoy the fresh air. 

I immediately noticed I wasn't the only one with the idea. Cleon was also here. I jumped up, landing hard. The vibration caught his attention, and he turned, smiling and waving me up by the railing. 

'Wynne is a bit calmer now,' he signed to me. I breathed a sigh of relief, resting my arms on the railing, making sure my hands were out to sign. 'I think she still has a lot of distrust, but she isn't at least arguing needlessly like before.' That was one less worry then. 'Basically, being an overprotective mom.' 

"Yeah, I can see that," I murmured, making sure my signs were crisp enough for him to read. A thought occurred to me as I signed. "What _is_ the Dalish belief for blood magic?" 

'Ultimately, it varies by the Clan.' Ah, of course, that made sense. 'But typically, we view it as wrong and evil.' Cleon smiled wryly. 'We were hurt by the Imperium too.' Ah. Yeah. 'But if you are worried about me, don't be. At this point, though, I have seen so much shit that I just can't care anymore.' He sighed, shaking his head. 'Blood magic is literally the least of our problems, especially when Layla is the one wielding it.' 

"Very true." My signs were slow. Resting like this just reminded me of how tired I actually was. But I didn't want to rest until we knew what was going to happen with Connor. "So, no risks of Wynne leaving?" 

'No, but it might be good to keep her away from Layla.' Cleon's signs sharpened. 'It can't be good for Layla that someone she has known essentially all her life showed so much distrust in her.' 

"Yeah…" I stretched my arms above my head, wincing as I brought them back down. "Why do I feel like half an age has passed in just a few days?" 

'Because Fen'harel is playing a grand prank on everyone.' I laughed bitterly and he smiled wryly before nodding to something below. I pushed myself up to see it was Lord Nuada and Mistress Layla in some gardens. 'What do you think?' 

"Well, Layla's in love." I probably shouldn't have told him, but I was tired. And being teased would probably cheer her up. "Not sure of Lord Nuada. I don't think he's sure." But he was definitely putting effort into making her smile, laugh, and glare. I could see it easily. "How are things with Morrigan?" 

'It is just a physical relationship.' Yeah, I doubted that so much. But I wouldn't say anything right now. 'So we're fine.' Uh-huh. 'What of you?' Mmm? 'Has anyone caught your eye?' 

"Let me get back to you on that one." I felt like I was about to fall asleep. Not a good time to be analyzing what I might be feeling. "While we're on the subject of gossiping like old people over ale…" 

'Elspeth and Alistair dance around each other too much!' Cleon's frown made his signs appear sharper. I almost laughed that he knew what I was going to ask. 'What are they afraid of?' 

"Being wrong." That was my best guess. For now, at least. "Ugh, I'm tired. We didn't sleep at all yesterday, did we?" 

'Nope.' Cleon smiled wryly, before it suddenly turned into a warm and bright smile. I turned to see Morrigan watching us, leaning against the wall. 

"Connor is free," she informed us. I breathed a sigh of relief. "We shall have to see how damaged he is." Yes, but it was over for now. Which meant… 

"You two have fun doing whatever," I told them, making myself straighten and walk back inside the castle. "I intend on passing out for a while. Don't wake me unless there's an emergency." 

Redcliffe was saved. _Connor_ was saved. That was another one. We could save Fereldan. Over protests, if we had to. I didn't think we were walking a wrong path. No, I _knew_ we weren't. I trusted everyone here, after all. We might make mistakes, but our path wasn't wrong. And damn anyone who tried to make us feel guilty over our choices. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And this concludes Redcliffe's arc. Well, basically. Layla also starts us off on our third specializations for the Warden chars. For reminders: Aiden is Berserker/Templar, Nuada is Champion/Templar, and Cleon is Ranger/Assassin. Layla is now Spirit Healer/Arcane Warrior/Blood Mage. I went with this solution because… well… I thought it would've been an interesting one to have in game.   
>  Bryce's grandmother is just something I'm putting in for fun. And for something in Saga of the Inquisitors. But mostly for fun. We know the family is absolutely huge anyway. Inquisition's codex entry mentions 14-18 branches to the family, and that the family is connected to almost every major house across Thedas.   
>  (Yes, I know, there is different dialogue for an elf. I wanted Aiden talking, and I wanted Connor's reply, so I ignored that.) 
> 
> Next Chapter – Aftermath with Nuada 


	68. Chapter 59) Separate Paths

Chapter 59) Separate Paths 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_You could spot some Crows by the markings on their faces. Antiva might like tattoos for decoration, but some were only worn by the Crows. They were known to kill anyone else who wore them._

_"Does it hurt?" I asked one. I knew they were a Crow, despite the disguise as a blind beggar, but I doubted they knew I knew. "The tattoos."_

_"It depends on where you get them, child," they replied. They made a show of groping before resting their hand on my head. "And if the person knows what they're doing. If you want one, get it when you're older. Grown. And make sure they know about the oils."_

_"Oils?"_

_"Makes the ink take better, and makes the skin numb so it doesn't hurt as much. But, seriously, wait until you're older. You don't want it to stretch too much."_

_"Okay."_

* * *

Connor was alive and sane. Isolde was alive. Teagan was alive. Not everyone in the castle and village were dead. All were miracles, yet I couldn't help but feel vexed anyway. Eamon was still in a coma, one that not even Wynne could wake him from. The demon's bargain with Connor certainly gave a clear picture of what 'alive' meant. 

More annoyingly, despite all the trouble she unleashed, Isolde begged us for help finding the Sacred Ashes. If Teagan hadn't requested the same damn thing, I might've told her exactly where she could shove her request, no matter how much I actually liked Eamon. 

Shaking my head, I continued walking through the hallway, having just left Alistair and Connor to their play. Connor was _delighted_ to see Alistair again, and I snickered at how angry Isolde was about it, since I knew she wouldn't _dare_ say anything. Elspeth and I had all the power in the Fereldan to have her locked up in chains, and all three of us knew it. No way was she going to risk angering us. 

I passed by one of the balconies and paused when I saw Layla was sitting by the railing, eyes shut as if asleep. I crept a little closer, seeing if she'd stir, but when she didn't, I shrugged and decided to check out the view. 

There, sadly, wasn't much to see. The village was bustling, but for the worst of reasons: funerals. There were too many for the Chantry to handle, so they were being piled into ships and set adrift on Lake Calenhad, set aflame by fire arrows to give them proper burnings. Morrigan, I knew, had actually offered to just burn them herself, but the villagers had refused. They didn't want to deal with more magic. I think Cleon, Elspeth, and Leliana were down there among the archers, adding their skill. 

Certainly, it was eerily pretty, watching the boats burn as they sailed. It was like tiny stars dying on the horizon. I supposed, in a way, they were. All the lives snuffed out because Isolde wanted to protect her son from the Circle, to the point of breaking laws, and trusted the very wrong person. 

"Oh, Nuada!" I glanced over at Layla's squeak and turned to face her, making sure my blind side was towards the railing. "How long have you been here?" she murmured, staring at me with wide eyes. It was almost hilarious how unchanged she was, given all the horror stories of psychopathic blood mages. It was just another thing to prove blood magic was a tool. Yes, it was a tool with a great deal of temptations, but I knew hardened warriors who were often tempted to cleave someone in two. They had the discipline to not do so. Maybe if blood magic wasn't so feared, not so many desperate people would long for it. "Nuada?" 

"I'm sorry," I murmured before grinning, leaning on the railing. "Your beauty captivated me so much I forgot how to speak." 

"Of course you did." I nearly laughed when she rolled her eyes. Sarcasm fit her well. "No, please, be serious. What were you thinking about?" 

"I was thinking of how you break so many blood mage stereotypes." She grimaced. Clearly, it wasn't a decision that sat well with her, even if she had decided to make it. "Do you think there are medicinal ways to use it?" 

"Hmm…" She bit her lip as she thought, resting her arms on the railing as she twisted to face me a little more fully. "That… might be an interesting line of research." She stood, her hand tracing over the scar on my blind eye. My breath caught at the touch, my heart hammering. I hoped she didn't notice. "Maybe I could have saved your eye, had I manipulated the blood to hold it." She smiled wryly. "Ah, but that assumes you would even let me." 

"…If it's you, I think I'd be okay with it." She blinked slowly, hand still on my face. "I trust you, after all. I wouldn't let you heal me at all if I didn't." She smiled sweetly at that. "But that brings up an interesting line of thought. There are many women who bleed out in childbirth, for instance. Would a blood mage be able to prevent that?" 

"In theory, yes, they would." Her smile grew. "Perhaps it can even force scabbing to plug up the injury in the event healing magic does not take." Of course, my mind immediately jumped to 'well, what would happen if you clot the blood in the veins?', but I knew better than to mention that. "Oh, there are some illnesses of the blood. Perhaps it can cure them?" She laughed a bit, stepping back and letting her hand fall from my face. "I should think on it more. It would be interesting to study when things are calmer." 

"It sounds like it." I smiled at her. "So, were you taking a kitten nap out here?" 

"Is not the term 'cat nap'?" 

"You're too little." She scowled and I laughed. "Regardless, were you sleeping? Should I leave you to it?" 

"Oh, no, I was not sleeping." She waved away the offer before stretching her arms above her head with a little squeak. "I was looking through the Arcane Warrior's memories." She was what? Oh, wait, she was talking about the spirit that dropped its memories into her head. "Did you know there are different subsets of mages?" 

"I am assuming you mean something different from the 'specializations' some Circle mages take after being Harrowed?" I asked, leaning against the railing again. Her eyes were sparkling. "If that is the case, no, I didn't know that." I really needed to read up more on magical theory. 

"Yes, specializations are something mages choose, but subsets are what you are born as." She had the biggest smile on her face. "For instance, there are the Dreamers. They are mages who can enter the Fade at will, without the aid of lyrium or blood." So, there were mages we could've really used here, huh? "They are powerful, but rare, due to how attractive they are to demons, and how frail of mind they typically are. There has not been one in… three ages, I think?" Now she was bouncing in excitement. "That is one known very well. There are numerous records of ancient elves and Tevinter magisters who killed enemies through their dreams." Oh, that was a lovely thought. "But there are _more_!" Oh? "The one I was looking at was something called 'warrior mages'. Well, truthfully, the name is far more elegant, but it is a jumbled mess between the Warrior's memories and mine, so that is the best I can manage." 

"So, what's special about these warrior mages?" This was fun. It was fun, watching her be so enthusiastic, especially given how _long_ the past few days had been. 

"They are mages who cannot cast what typical mages would call 'basic' spells." At this, she became more somber. "Well, they _can_ , but it can be quite difficult. The ancient elves were often able to identify them by how hard it was for them to cast a simple fireball." That… 

"They must've hated themselves." 

"Yes." She shuddered, hugging herself. "The Warrior saw many kill themselves from self-loathing, because no one was teaching them properly. It wasn't their fault; their magic is literally incapable of producing these spells, and to try is… well, you have better luck fitting a lake into a teacup." She shook her head. "They are complete masters of creation spells, of arcane and entropy. They have a natural affinity for battle." I bet that was where the name came from. "But they cannot call fire down from the skies, or freeze over a lake with a thought." 

"So, you're not one." 

"No, I am a very typical mage." She laughed a little. "I have more power than some, but that is like a giant river versus a small one. A typical mage to a warrior mage is like… is like a river compared to a lake." Both were sources of water, but supported completely different varieties of life. "It is almost a shame. The Warrior was one." Ah, so that was how she likely learned of it. "Because they were, they were able to do things with Arcane Warrior that I am, frankly, incapable of." 

"Do you mind giving me an example?" 

"Um…" She thought a little, tapping her cheek. "Ah, have you ever seen Knight Enchanters fight?" I nodded. I had seen them numerous times in Orlais, actually. "Well, Knight Enchanter is a 'modern' version of Arcane Warrior." Oh? "Of course, it is much weaker, given how many hands and minds the knowledge has passed through." The very thought of that was amusing, and I wasn't quite sure why. "But there are similar abilities. The Spirit Sword of the Knight Enchanters is one such thing. However, an Arcane Warrior can create more than just blades." Now _that_ was useful, and terrifying. "A Knight Enchanter can 'cloak' themselves with the magic of the Fade, but an Arcane Warrior can 'shroud' themselves in it, making it much more permanent." Well, damn. "While I believe I can eventually do that, I cannot summon weapons, among many other abilities that I must shift through." 

"That sounds interesting." She nodded eagerly, but I noticed something sad in her demeanor. "Does the warrior mage concept remind you of someone?" 

She stared at me before sighing heavily. "Yes." I waited for her to continue. "It matches Jowan." Her voice was so, so soft. "It all matches Jowan stupidly well. I remember how much he struggled learning fire spells." She sighed. "It also matches some others I knew in the Circle, who took their lives in frustration." She smiled bitterly. "Maker, it even matches Uldred. It makes me wonder…" 

"In your memories, did a lot of those 'warrior mages' turn to blood magic for strength?" 

"Yes." She sighed again. "Yes, they did." 

"It seems the Circle is faulty not only from the 'templar' side of things." She grimaced, but nodded. "That is a failing on part of the mages, for not considering the possibility." She nodded again. "Are you okay?" 

"Why would I be upset over the Circle not knowing something?" 

"Well, that ignorance has likely led to a lot of deaths." She frowned, tensing. "But, I was asking about Jowan, since you brought him up." She froze. "Are you okay?" 

"Yes, I am fine." Yet, even as she said the words, her eyes swam in tears. "I made the choice. We both did. He was the one who suggested it." Her voice broke, breath hitched. "I…" 

"Would you like me to pretend?" 

"…I want you to hug me." I froze at her pleading tone. "Please?" She clung to my sleeve, looking up at me. 

Hesitantly, as if she were made of glass, I wrapped my arms around her, tugging her close as she sobbed into my chest, her hands clinging to my back. I whispered soothing words, in every language I knew, and stroked her soft hair to try and comfort her. My heart ached as she cried, and I tightened my hold on her, wishing I could just keep her safe and away from trauma. What a foolish thought. There wasn't a safe place anywhere in Thedas, especially for a Warden. Why would I even think something so…? Ah. No, I knew. It was the answer to the question I had been asking since I almost kissed her in Highever. 

I was in love with her. I was truly in love with her. And all I could do was hold her as she cried. How useless was I, huh? 

* * *

"Remind me again why it's just us two discussing the future plans?" I asked dryly as I sprawled out on the floor of the study Aiden and I were borrowing. "I can't remember the excuses." 

"I don't even know," Aiden sighed. Unlike me, he was sitting all properly in a chair by the fire we had going. It was getting cold. Winter was coming. The south would have snow before long. I wonder how the darkspawn reacting to snow. "Well, Mistress Layla wanted to check on the wounded, Cleon was helping with patrols, Alistair is playing with Connor still, Zevran mentioned something about ironing dogs." I laughed at that. "Essentially, three had excuses and the others just told us to get on with it." 

"Well, that's fair, I suppose." I rolled onto my back, grimacing as my hair got all tangled. "I need to cut my hair." 

"Do you?" Aiden glanced at my hair and blinked slowly. "Is it… at your hips now?" 

"I don't think it's quite that long, but possibly? I'll check Elspeth's. Our hair grows at about the same rate, stupidly enough." 

"Is it not a headache?" 

"It's more aggravating than a pain." I shrugged, deciding to sit up and undo my ponytail to finger-comb it. "Ah, we are far off topic. Of course, I don't know what the topic is. You have already decided we would have a small group go after the Ashes and the rest go to Orzammar, yeah?" 

"Well, for one, I want logical reasons to go after the Ashes for when Sten inevitably complains." I was just glad we had the groups already set. It would be Layla, Alistair, Elspeth, and me to go ash hunting. The rest were heading to Orzammar. "I can mention the Landsmeet, right?" 

"It terms of Landsmeet, Eamon is a power because of his relation to the queen, and his position of being an older, skilled leader. That's what gives him the edge over Fergus in this situation." I sighed, grimacing at a tangle. I needed a good brush, damn it. "So, Ashes gives a chance to save a powerful… let's go with soldier or something. I'm not sure Qunari waste time with alliances." Aiden nodded. "It's also important to the Chantry." Aiden grimaced, and I smiled wryly. "I will be the first one to admit the Chantry is corrupt." My words were much blunt, blunter than I had _ever_ been on the topic. "We won't go into all the reasons why. I'm sure Cleon can list more than me easily." Aiden laughed at that. "But we have to admit the Chantry is a _power_. There are few things that rally people than religion." One need only look to the Exalted Marches to prove that. "If we get that on _our_ side, then it's more troops, more quickly, and looks good for the Wardens in the future." 

"So, the seemingly longer route is _actually_ more efficient." Aiden laughed again, resting his head in his hand as he leaned against the arm of his chair. "That'll take him a bit to work through." Honestly, I thought he'd just leave it at that, but maybe I was hoping too much? 

"I'm surprised Wynne and Leliana aren't seizing the chance to try and find it." Let's get off Sten's back for a bit, as much fun as it was to joke about his 'dour old soldier' ways. 

"Wynne stated the thought her healing ability would be useful in Orzammar." It also gave her and Layla some separation time to calm down after… well, everything that happened here. "Leliana stated that while she would be honored, she believes she is to help against the Blight more than anything, and Orzammar knows more about darkspawn than any other place in Thedas. Oh, was that her excuse? I think it's more of her wanting to continue flirting with Aiden and seeing if her interest will blossom to love. Though, it seemed like she and Zevran were having fun too. Maybe the three of them could all just hook up. "Will you four be all right?" 

"We're a very balanced group." Alistair and I could block damage, Layla could heal, and Elspeth could cover. "You'll need all the help you can get in Orzammar. Trust me. I've _been_ there." 

"Any advice?" 

"They'll drag you into their politics. Play them." Aiden looked a little dubious. "Aiden, you've spent years as a servant to nobles in the Landsmeet. I'm sure you know a lot more about politics than you think you do." 

"I'll… think of something, then." He sighed, and stood up. "All right. I think that's all we need for now. From here, it's supplies. I'd like to leave within the next couple of days, if not tomorrow." He gave me a look. "See if you can toughen Alistair up?" Hmm? "He's a candidate for the throne, right? I want to see if he'll be a good one before pushing support." 

"See? You're already playing." He gaped and I laughed, standing as well. "I'll do what I can. But he's slowly doing it on his own." 

"Mmm…" Aiden sighed. "We don't have time." 

"Have faith." 

"I have faith in him, and in our group. It's everyone else I have trouble with." Ha! "Ah, no matter. I'm going to find the others and nag them about preparing." 

"Have fun with that!" He gave me a dirty look and I laughed, opening the door for us. "Hey, I'm your second and your main tactician. I'll scream when it's battle time, but otherwise, you're the one yelling." 

"That makes too much sense for you." He followed me out, shaking his head with a smile. "Later, Lord Nuada." We parted with a wave, and I wandered the hallway, stretching again. I should find Elspeth. There was no doubt in my mind she had a brush I could borrow. Maybe I should stop being lazy and hack off a large chunk of my hair, but I liked being lazy when I could. So, I needed to brush it, and I wasn't doing that with a comb. It just tangled my hair more and, really, they were just pain in the- 

"There is an entire ritual that must be done!" That… sounded like Zevran around the corner. What was he talking about? "First, I need to bath you in a mixture of oils and rosewater." What in flames was he talking about? 

"You… need to bath me?" That was Alistair. Oh, I was _not_ missing this conversation. "That seems odd." I stepped around the corner, almost laughing at the bewildered look on Alistair's face, and the mischievous one of Zevran's. This was going to be hilarious. 

"No, no, no! Not at all!" Zevran smirked, leaning into Alistair slightly. "It needs to be worked into your skin, preparing it to receive the ink." Were they talking tattoos? "The massage is quite… _pleasurable_." I think I cracked a rib trying not to laugh. "Do not worry. You're in good hands." 

"You're having me on, aren't you?" 

"I might be." Alistair rolled his eyes and Zevran laughed. "Shall I explain the rest of the ritual to you?" 

"You can explain it to me," I called, grinning when they both spun to look at me. "I'm _quite_ curious about this massage." Alistair gawked, while Zevran laughed again. "Come now. Let's discuss, unless the offer was only open to Alistair?" 

"Now, how can I resist such a handsome man's offer?" Zevran teased, smirking as he slinked over to me. "This way. Alistair, you may watch." Alistair's face was going bright red. "I must get my ink and needles. And oils. Those are ever so important." 

* * *

"I knew you were having me on." Alistair sounded sulky. I wanted to look to check, but I was quite comfy, and I didn't want to mess Zevran up. "But why are you tattooing his entire back?" 

"I'm not," Zevran gently corrected. I automatically winced as I felt the needle go in. This was a bit more painful than I expected, even with the oil to numb the area. "I am only doing his right side here." I thought it funny he decided to go with my blind side to do the tattoo. "I simply added it to both sides to make sure the pain did not drift. And for my own amusement. Nuada played along." 

"You really think I'm going to pass up a free, and skilled, back massage after everything we've gone through?" I deadpanned. Alistair burst into laughter, while Zevran's chuckle was much quieter, focused on tattooing the entire right side of my back, and apparently part of my right shoulder. "What's he drawing, Alistair? I know he won't give me a straight answer." 

"It's a wing." Alistair moved to sit where I could see him. I was resting on a surprisingly comfy table, likely because of the blanket Zevran put down, with my blind eye against the wood. "A griffon wing, to be specific," he added. "At least, it looks more like the pictures of griffon wings than other birds." I gave him a skeptical look and he squirmed. "There were books, okay? I know how to read. One thing the Chantry does right is teach all it's orphans how to read." That was true. "I wonder if there's a way to give free lessons to everyone for that. There's not a system now, right?" 

"No, Uncle Maric tried, but with all the other troubles he had to deal with, he didn't have time to figure out a way to convince parents to let their children go." Cailan and Anora might've picked it up, but things were so hectic after Uncle Maric died… 

"What about free food?" Hmm? "A free lunch or something. It couldn't be much, but having a guaranteed meal might make it worth it? I remember running through the fields here and hearing parents worry about how they were going to feed their children." He looked thoughtful before shaking his head. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm rambling. Not like I could even do something about it." Well, that depended on how the Landsmeet ultimately went. 

"So, you played around here?" Zevran asked, steering the conversation away. I felt lightheaded. "Alistair, pass Nuada some of those candied nuts. It'll help him." 

"I'd say I'm fine, but no one believes me anymore," I sighed, accepting the nuts. They were tasty anyway. "But yes, Alistair, tell us. I thought you just stayed in the castle." Of course, based on the little I had heard of his life here, I wouldn't have blamed him for running. That said, I purposely didn't try to find out more, due to _not_ wanting my temper to run rampant on potential allies. 

"There's not much to tell," Alistair replied with a shrug. "I played in the fields outside the village when I had time, begged one of the Chantry sisters to make me toy soldiers. She was the only one who made me toys. Arl Eamon bought me some, but there's something special about a handmade one." 

"I can understand that. Nan would make Elspeth and me toys when we were lonely in the courts." 

"Nan?" 

"Nan was… actually, I don't know what her real name was." I smiled wryly. "Whatever it was, we couldn't pronounce it, so we called her 'Nan'. It was short for 'nanny'." And she had thought it so cute that she just took it as an affectionate nickname from everyone, even my parents. "She took care of Fergus, Elspeth, and me while we grew up, and worked as the castle cook until Oren was born, where she just ended up his nanny too." I laughed softly. "Maker, she hated Eoin when she had to work as cook, though. He was always causing trouble in the kitchens, and she had such a temper. But she was also unfailingly kind to us." She died during the Fall of Highever. I remembered stepping over her body. I had to ignore her. I regretted that so badly. 

"Is she why you are so charming, Nuada?" Zevran asked. He was smoothing something over my back now. "You had to talk your way out of trouble?" 

"Oh, please, Nan was immune to everyone's charms. Antiva gave me my charm." 

"Ah, of course. Antiva does so adore silver-tongues, when not trying to stab people in the back." Yeah, and Orlais like ripping out the silver-tongues to use as medals. 

"What's that you're doing, Zevran?" Alistair asked, pointing to my back and changing the subject on us. "Ointment?" 

"Yes, it's to help keep the area from getting infected. I'll bandage it up, but we'll remove it again after dinner. I'll give you detailed instructions, Nuada, on how to care for it." 

"And Layla's not going to just heal it because…?" 

"Because rituals." Zevran chuckled. "Actually, I was so focused that I forgot we had healing mages. I think it will be fine." 

"I'm the test subject, basically," I noted dryly. It earned me some laughs. "Is there a mirror so I can see?" 

"Certainly, my friend." As I pushed myself up slowly, wincing at the spikes of pain in my back, Zevran produced a mirror and held it up. "It's much redder right now, of course, but I must say, it's quite fetching." 

It was more than that, I noted, as I glanced over my shoulder to catch my reflection. Red as it was, the black and silver ink painted a picture of a wing just about to unfurl for flight. A couple of feathers fell over my shoulder, but the rest was solely on my back. It looked powerful. I actually felt a bit powerful, looking at it. 

I felt like if I had to go through the Tower of Ishal all over again, I'd _win_. That was a feeling I hadn't expected. 

"It's amazing, Zevran," I breathed, smiling. I couldn't think of any other words, at least in King's tongue. Maybe there was a better one in others, but Zevran might not understand. "Thank you." 

"It was my pleasure." Zevran smiled proudly before turning to Alistair. "Well, now that you know what it is like, what is your thought on getting one yourself now?" Oh, was that what started all this? 

"It's tempting," Alistair answered, smiling slightly. "It looks good. If you get tired of being an assassin, I think you've a calling." Zevran laughed and bowed. "I'll think about it some more, and if I still want one after we all meet up again…" 

"I shall gladly do one for you. And any of the others in the group. I forgot how fun it was." I almost retorted with something sarcastic, but he looked so genuinely pleased that I bit my tongue. "Ah, but I digress. Let me finish tending to it, Nuada. You can show it off after I have talked to Layla and Wynne. I doubt the mages in the Tower didn't experiment with tattoos." 

"I look forward to it," I laughed. And, I really did. I liked it, a lot. I felt like I was flying free at last, and oh, was it ever glorious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> Author's Note: All right, end of one arc, start of the next. Orzammar and Sacred Ashes coming up. Warrior mages are something I came up. We already know there's a special 'subset' of mages called 'Dreamers', so why not more? No, not every mage who becomes a blood mage is one (Merill isn't), but it certainly provides an interesting thing that I've never seen show up in the games. The idea that not all mages can learn magic the same way. Sure, there are the different classes, and DA2 does a thing where some of your companions can't learn any spells from certain trees, but what about something more? Hence 'warrior mages'.   
>  The tattoos comes from Zevran-Alistair banter. No, Nuada isn't the only one getting one. No, I won't tell who else does. His comment of playing in the fields and a Chantry sister making him toys comes from dialogue with a Chantry Lady in Redcliffe during Inquisition (I think Alistair had to remain a Warden to get it, though.) 
> 
> Next Chapter – Golem with Cleon 


	69. Chapter 60) Golem in Honnleath

Chapter 60) Golem of Honnleath 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"This is your fault, Tamlen!" I snapped as we raced through the trees. "I told you to not go near there and what did you do?!"_

_"Less scolding, more running!" Tamlen replied, voice high with fear. "How was I supposed to know bears were around?!"_

_"I TOLD YOU THERE WERE!"_

_"Hey, that was my ear!"_

_"Save it! You're the one that led to us getting ambushed by bears!" A roar caught our ears and we glanced back to see the bears still on us. "And really pissed them off. They don't normally chase this far."_

_"Oh. Great. The Keeper is going to kill me."_

_"If the bear doesn't. Or your damned curiosity!"_

_"Less yelling, more running!"_

* * *

The day started so well; it wasn't even a surprise that we had run straight into a darkspawn ambush. After all, Fen'harel just _really_ hated us and liked pulling thousands of pranks. 

'This way!' I signed, repeating it until I was certain Zevran had seen before moving on. I looked for paths, paying attention to how the shadows fell to find those hidden in the silence. Zevran paid more attention to sound, our own and warning signs I could no longer catch, as he followed. The rest of our group fell behind us, shaking the branches of trees as we tried to just get to a safer location. 

I glanced back, counting numbers, and saw Aiden whirl, shouting something at Sten. I didn't know what, he didn't sign, but the frustration in Aiden's eyes and the tenseness in his shoulders screamed loud enough for me to guess. Sten wanted to know why we didn't fight; Aiden was telling him to shut up and move. 

Unfortunately, though, it slowed us enough for the darkspawn to catch up, and the emissary none of us wanted to fight threw a spell of dark fire, knocking us all clear to the ground. I grit my teeth at the pain, curling my fist in the dirt as I fought against tears. I felt like my skin was being flayed off! 

I shakily pushed myself up, arms burning with the effort, and I saw Wynne, of all people, was still standing. Standing alone as the rest of us struggled to stand. We survived so much. None of us were going to die _here_ , to an ambush of random darkspawn. Though, we were probably going to have some permanent injuries. 

Wynne glanced at me. She smiled. And then there was _light_. 

I flinched as the forest lit up, like sunlight glittering on a lake, saw a gentle blue light fog up from around Wynne. Saw something flit around her, hugging her shoulders from behind, pressing its cheek to hers affectionately. 

And the pain disappeared. The light faded and the darkspawn stumbled back, disoriented. Morrigan wasted no time, conjuring up a blizzard to mask our escape as we continued to run. Or tried too, at least. Wynne collapsed before managing two steps. Without prompting, Sten picked up Wynne, settling her on his back. It should've been comical almost, because of how small she was compared to him, but it just made her seem all the frail. 

Leliana waved to catch our attention, before pointing down a well-worn path, half-hidden by foilage. 'There must be a village this way,' she signed. I winced as the blizzard whipped a piece of ice at my cheek. 'Maybe we can rest there.' And hope this was a lot that didn't want to after that bounty because of all the good deeds we were doing. 'Here, I'll lead. Give Cleon and Zevran a break.' Part of me bristled at the need, but my body reminded that part of the pain I was in. Rest would be nice. This could _not_ be the only fight we had to deal with today. Things were never that simple for us. 

Cautious yet quick, we followed Leliana, noting the worn fences along the path. Eventually, we came to a fork with signs pointing the way, letters worn away to faint, barely readable lines. In fact, I couldn't really read the letters at all, but I knew the one starting with an 'h' was the one with the lower number on it. So, we went in that direction, everyone casting worried glances at Wynne. She was pale, sweaty, and I could tell her breathing was labored. I gestured to Morrigan and pointed to her, silently asking for her to help. Morrigan scowled, but fell back to Sten's side, magic running over Wynne's form. Sten, for once, didn't bat an eye or even scowl at the magic being used so close to him. 

My feet were just starting to hurt when we came to the village, but I grimaced at the sight. Dying fires, broken houses, corpses thrown about like rag dolls or hanging like ornaments… clearly, this village had been overrun. The similarities to the corpses in the Korcari Wilds made me think darkspawn. Had Lothering suffered like this? 

Without a word or sign, we separated, hunting for supplies and the possibility of survivors. As I walked, I picked up corpses, set them to the side for easy burning later, when we left. It was only right, since we were going to be using their husk of a village for shelter. But I noticed something odd about the corpses. They were mostly the elderly. No children. No young adults. Had they escaped? Surely, though, there had to be _some_ of them dead. 

A glitter caught my eye and I turned to see it, worried it might be the gleam of a weapon. But no, it was a statue. A large statue in the middle of town, with a _no_ corpses around, not even a spec of blood on the birdseed in the basket nearby. And what a strange statue it was. Looking as if in the middle of a scream of pain, or a roar of anger, with strange crystals embedded into it. I ran my fingers over the stone, noting how choppy it felt, and feeling my teeth buzz at the feeling of magic. Raw magic, turned to purpose. What was this? Who would make such a thing and then just… leave it in a village? 

The flowers around me rustled, tickling my legs, and I turned to see Morrigan walk up with a coy little smile. 'Hello, my dear,' she signed, pressing herself into my side. 'Zevran found an open door. We're heading inside.' Of course we were. 'Wynne has recovered enough to walk. She has not yet explained what that spell was.' Of course. 

I nodded and let her take my hand, dragging me after her. But I kept glancing back at the strange statue as we walked, so certain it would start moving at any moment. 

Creators sealed, what was that thing? 

* * *

Inside the house, we found more darkspawn. Bashing their brains out, what little they had, on a magic barrier with no sign of a mage. Though it was clearly made by a master. It even repelled blood. And it kept the villagers, those that remained, safe. Easy to see why it was only the elderly who were dead. 

'I don't suppose you were sent by the Bann, were you?' I had no idea who the person talking was, but he seemed to be the leader of the group. Certainly, the survivors looked at him for permission before even shifting in their seat. 'To save us?' 

'Sadly, no,' Aiden replied, hands flying with signs. I noticed the others looked put-off by the gestures and grit my teeth. Excuse me for not being able to hear a damn thing. 'We are Wardens, who were looking for a place to rest.' 

'Well, you won't find it here, sadly.' That much was obvious. 'Ah, hang on a moment.' He gestured, and the shield dissipated. I blinked slowly. Was this man a mage? Why was he not in the Circle, if that was the case? Or did he just know how to activate and deactivate a magical artifact? 'Come this way.' We followed him slowly, careful to not bother any of the other villagers. My nose wrinkled at the smell of stale sweat and dried blood assaulted me, septic wounds on some of them making my stomach turn. 

Movement caught my eye, and I turned to see Wynne had knelt down to tend to the wounded. Zevran and Leliana crouched next to her, ready to provide assistance. 

'I apologize for having to request your help.' Aiden tapped my shoulder to catch my attention before signing the man's words. Did I have a name yet? 'Especially after you just saved us, but my daughter is inside my father's old laboratory,' he continued, gesturing to a small door. 

'Father?' Aiden asked, tilting his head curiously. 

'Yes, ah, where are my manners?' He paused before saying something Aiden did not sign. The glances at me hinted what it was anyway. 'Am I speaking well enough for him, then?' I nodded, pointing to Aiden's hands. 'My father was a mage, a hero of the war with Orlais. He was granted leave to live outside the Circle for his efforts.' That explained that. 'This is the old house, before that damn shale killed my father.' …Did he just say shale? I gave Aiden a confused look and he shrugged. Oh… kay… then…? 'My daughter ran too far inside before I could stop her. Someone went after her, but they were killed by something.' Ah. 

'You want us to save your daughter.' 

'Please?' He gave us a tentative, sad look. 'She is my world.' Ah… damn our bleeding hearts. 

'Cleon and I will head down.' Ma serranas for volunteering me, Aiden. Truly, I am grateful. 'The rest of our group will remain above to help out.' Aiden paused glancing at Sten and Morrigan. 'They look scarier than they are.' Mostly. 

'Thank you.' The man smiled, bowing a little, before stepping away to talk to the others. 

Wynne, however, came to us. 'Let me go down with you,' she requested. Aiden and I exchanged dubious looks before pointing to the wounded almost at the same time. 'I have treated the worst already. Morrigan and Leliana can tend to them.' She shrugged. 'It will be a good chance for Morrigan to get along with others not named Cleon, Elspeth, or Layla.' Well… 'And besides, I tend to be good with scared children.' That I could believe easily. 

So… 'Then let's get this over with,' I signed, feeling tired suddenly. It had been a long day already. 'Not that I'm not glad we're helping a father find his daughter, or that we saved the villagers, but this was not what we planned when we got up this morning.' 

'Does anything ever go to plan?' 

'Highever.' 

'Then know that things will go to plan when you have your armies, since it worked out then.' Wynne's smile was serene even as I gave her a dirty look. 'You must be wary when everything goes to plan. Life likes it's little tricks.' 

'Yes, yes, Fen'harel hates us. Now into the caverns. Or something.' Please don't let it _actually_ be a cavern? We would get enough of that in Orzammar and I wasn't looking forward to it. 

* * *

The laboratory was filled with thousands of strange, glowing crystals and winding paths that seemed to spiral out in all directions. Clearly, the owner hadn't been one for straight lines, and the scattered notes constant mentions of 'golems' and 'Deep Roads' made me wonder just how insane he might've been. 

That said, the little girl we were supposed to find? Talking to a cat by a strange fire. 

'Oh, look! Someone's come to play!' She seemed cheerful, smiling brightly as she looked at us. Shouldn't she have been cowering in terror or something? 'We're playing a guessing game!' She bounced on her toes, excited, and I glanced around hunting for someone else. But it was just her and the cat. Uh… 'It's way more fun with more people.' 

'Child, your father is worried,' Wynne said, crouching down slightly to look the girl in the eye. Aiden signed for me, making the signs gentle to convey her tone. 'Come, let's go back.' 

'Oh, but I can't!' The girl picked up the cat, cuddling it to her chest. 'Kitty says she can't leave, and I won't leave her behind.' Kitty… said…? 

"You are so kind, Amalia." I froze. The cat's eyes turned a strange maroon color and I heard it talk. _Heard_ it. Well… no, not quite _heard_ as in through my non-working ears. The voice was in my head. Spirit. Demon. And my skin crawled as my instincts screamed. "I would miss you dearly if you left." This just got ten times creepier than it should've! "Now, let me shut of her hearing for a bit." The cat looked directly at us, somehow smirking. "Nothing you say will convince Amalia to come with you. She desired comfort and sanctuary, and I gave it. She loves only me now." 

'Of all the places I expected a demon, this was not one of them,' Aiden deadpanned. I could tell by his narrowed eyes, the air of just being _so damn done_ with this. I couldn't blame him. 'What do we do to let the girl go? Already telling you that you are not having the girl.' 

"Then perhaps one of you?" What. "I cannot take the elderly mage, sadly. She already has a spirit inside." OH, WAIT, WHAT?! "Oh, you didn't know? My mistake." I glanced at Wynne, wide-eyed, and Wynne's tired, sad smile promised explanations later. "What about your marked friend here?" Me? "Yes, you. You have the gift of magic bubbling inside you, quiet enough to manifest only in sharp instincts. It is intriguing. Do you desire more power?" I desired to get stronger, yes, but by my own hands. "What of restoring your hearing?" I was doing just fine adapting. 

Movement caught my eye, and I glanced over to see Aiden sign, 'keep her busy. Wynne is saving the girl.' Right… 

"Come now, there must be something you desire." The cat leapt from the girl's arms to my shoulder, nuzzling my cheek. I was reminded of Morrigan, except Morrigan didn't try to kill me with anything but sexual frustration. "Freedom from the Taint? Returning to that fiancé you still love so dearly." Out. Of. My. Head. "Oh, yes, don't you want your old life back?" Not at the expense of myself. "A life where you aren't-" Look, demon, this would've worked _maybe_ a few weeks ago, but now I'd gone through so much that I wanted to finish things to just spite everything trying to stop us. "Bah, a Warden racing for death and not even knowing it." Hmm? "Don't you know? In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. And oh, the sacrifices of the Wardens. Ignored, shunned, looked down upon, and fated to die when the Archdemon roars." Uh… okay, demon. Here's a thing. I don't really care. "…You… you don't?" Nope. "Are you not scared?!" I have my friends. I would be willing to die for them. I'm even more willing to live for them. I will not be shaken. "You…!" The cat swatted at me, claws raking over my neck, strangely deep and _far too painful for cat's claws_. "I will take you by force!" 

Something nudged my in the knee and I dropped down fast, knocking the cat off my shoulder. A blade flashed and the cat was easily bisected, blood splattering all over. I blinked slowly and glanced at the greatsword, noticing it flickering with a strange crimson-black flame. I glanced at Aiden, question in my eyes. 

'Holy Smite,' he signed, answering the question as he swung his greatsword up and rested in against his shoulder. 'Templar ability. You know Alistair has been teaching Lord Nuada and me.' Yeah, but still. 'Not sure why it's that color. Lord Nuada theorized it has something to do with the Taint in us.' Okay? 'Regardless, are you okay?' I nodded slowly and stood, pressing a hand to my neck. It was bleeding too much. 'How in flames did that happen?' 

Gentle light wrapped around my neck, closing up the wound under my palm, uneven texture hinting to a scar. I glanced over to see Wynne smiling softly. 'The demon transfigured its claws back to the normal state for a split second,' she explained, signs gentle. The girl was pressed against her side, shivering. 'She is well, though traumatized.' Of course she was. Who wasn't? 'Shall we return?' Aiden and I nodded, and I sighed, pushing the hair out of my face. 

The demons words echoed eerily in my head. I wasn't getting a good night's rest for a while, it seemed. 

* * *

The girl immediately bolted for her father as soon as we got outside, tears streaming down her face as she clung to him for reassurance, shaking all the while. After watching him comfort her, I looked around the village. It was much livelier than earlier, but I could see the people collapsed, weeping, heaving with sobs, over broken corpses. I highly doubted anyone would live here again. 

'I suppose now is the time for explanations.' Wynne's signs were small, even as her smile and demeanor was poised. Aiden and I turned to face her. 'You know about the Tower. I don't need to explain it.' No, we got that full story. 'I… did not exactly survive the fall.' …Um… er… what. _What_. 

'This is definitely a case of death taking a long while to kick in,' I signed, narrowing my eyes and rocking back on my heels slightly to give a deadpanned tone to the signs. 'A long, long while.' I glanced at Aiden, but he looked just as startled. I guess I was doing the signing here, then. 

'I suppose so.' Her smile was wry. 'I engaged a power demon to protect the mages in the tower, and it sapped me of all my energy and will. Everything I had. I won, but I did not even have the strength to keep my heart beating.' Wait, could Spirit Healers _typically_ do that? Or was she being melodramatically poetic? 'I remember everything ebbing away. Sound, light… nothing but a gentle darkness enveloping me.' 

'Nice to know death is peaceful.' 

'Oh, I'll spare you all my regretful thoughts and fears.' Ah. 'But right before everything disappeared, a gentle presence cradled me, whispering quietly…' She shrugged, throwing her hands up briefly in a 'I cannot describe it' manner. 'Slowly, but surely, all sensation returned. Including the discomfort of my poor old hip on the cold stone flower of the tower.' Ha! 'Thus, I came back to life.' 

'So, a Spirit, then?' Movement caught my eye and I turned briefly to check. It was just Sten, waving to let us know things were wrapping up. We could leave soon. 

Wynne waited for me to look back at her before continuing. 'Yes, a benevolent one.' I did not understand why shemlen differentiated. 'It is not unusual for a Spirit Healer to attract Spirits. We gain our powers through bonds.' This made them different from blood mages… how? Exactly? Besides the whole 'healing' thing. Making deals with Spirits was just stupid and dangerous. 'Layla, in fact, made a bargain with a powerful Hope spirit to receive her healing abilities.' Hope, huh? Yeah, that fit her. Even if I still thought them both a tad crazy for it. Still, those healing abilities have saved us. Often. 

'How did that happen?' 

'Do you mean how did Layla make the bargain?' At my nod, Wynne become a little thoughtful. 'Well, she earned its trust. That's how all become Spirit Healers. Through trials, through charisma, through deeds. It all simply depends. I befriended the Spirit of Faith I bargained with, after noticing it watching me from afar. For Layla, Hope came to her and offered the power.' So, Wynne had gained it through friendship, and Layla had… apparently gotten it because she was Layla. Huh. 'It was quite a surprising thing, since Spirits of Hope rarely appear to mortals. There is little in the waking world that attracts them.' That… said a _lot_ about the people of Thedas. 'Spirits of Faith and Hope are the most powerful of the benevolent spirits, though. That is why my healing abilities are so strong, and why Layla's will become even more powerful than mine, in time.' …I had the sudden mental image of Layla healing an entire army in one spell and damn if I didn't like it. But chances of me seeing that anytime soon were nonexistent. 'Ah, I have gotten off track. I can give you a proper lesson later.' 

'I look forward to it.' Still… 'The demons said…' 

'Yes, the Spirit is with me even now.' Ah. Okay. Traveling with a high-functioning abomination. 'I suppose I should also warn you as well. I am on borrowed time.' Huh?! 'The Spirit is weakening, gradually. I do not know how long I have.' 

'Was… this the real reason why you left the Tower?' I glanced at Aiden, but his shock had faded for a stoicness that rivaled Sten. Joy. 

'I will not lie and say it did not play a part, but I did not lie. Irving and Greagoir know me too well for me to lie.' Her smile was fond. 'But that is the long and short of things. 'I don't think I will suddenly drop dead on you. I can feel when the Spirit weakens.' But it might happen while we were fighting. 'But let us not dwell on it. There is still time yet.' She smiled softly, gently patting our shoulders before walking off, tending to a bawling, sobbing child. 

'So, what do you think?' Aiden signed, shoulders dropping from exhaustion. He looked out over the broken, smoking village, eyes sad. 'About that.' 

'I am thinking it might be a bit hypocritical for her to be critical of blood magic when she herself is an abomination,' I signed back easily. Aiden nodded, head dropping this time, though he made sure to keep sight of my hands. 'I am also…' Word. I needed a word. I also needed a sign, but I needed a word first. 

'Synonym?' 

'Surprise. Confusion. Unable to react.' 

'Nonplussed.' 

'Ma serranas.' We exchanged a smile. 'So, I am also nonplussed that even with this knowledge, she is still probably one of the most normal of the group.' Aiden froze for a split second before _roaring_ with laughter, throwing his head back before doubling over, clutching his stomach as a grin split his face. His feet shifted to get balance as he laughed and laughed, and I honestly couldn't think of another time where he'd laughed like this. It was all too easy to see he wasn't so old, right now. Even if he was the eldest of us Wardens. …Oh, Creators, we all _were_ really young, too young for all of this. But, that's what happened. I pray Mythal continues to keep us safe. 

Movement caught my eye, a swish of cloth, and I turned to see a village woman approach. She had blond hair in a braid and brown eyes, and her smile was warm and kind. She spoke something, eyes narrowing as her smile grew. Aiden signed for me. 'Thank you so much for saving us. My name is…' Aiden took my hand to spell it out. M-i-a. Mia. R-u-t-h-e-r-f-o-r-d. Rutherford. Mia Rutherford. 'I am relieved I don't have to bury my siblings. Your healer saved my little sister.' 

'We are glad to hear that.' Aiden's signs were soft and gentle, matching his reassuring smile. 'Will you need any more assistance?' 

'No, I will be fine.' I noticed she spoke slower this time, and wondered if she was trying to make it easier for me to read her lips. It didn't really work. I still had a lot to learn on that skill, and it just made her words all wobbling. 'My siblings and I will either head for the Tower or South Reach.' Tower? 

'Why the Tower?' Aiden glanced at me and I shrugged. 

'Oh, not to stay, just for a brief visit. Cullen, my brother, is a templar there.' I shifted awkwardly and Aiden's smile turned strained. Clearly, the Tower's fate hadn't spread here. At least we were aware that 'Cullen' survived. Based on what I'd heard, though, I wasn't sure if he was better for it. 'Ah, but I have taken too much of your time. Thank you again.' She bobbed a little curtsey before racing off, chatting happily with two people who looked just enough like her that I figured they were her family. 

As she left, Aiden and I exchanged a look. I had no idea when she'd learn about the Tower, but it was going to be painful, whenever it was. 

Another wave caught our attention and I turned to see it was the father. Who I _still_ didn't know the name of. He waited for Aiden to bring his hands up before talking. 'Here, take this,' he said, holding a strange looking rod. 'I would not normally give this. I hate the bloody thing it controls.' He pressed the rod into my hand. 'But perhaps it will help you. It's all I can think of.' A rod was going to help us? What? 'Forgive me, though, I must pack what I can. We're all escaping while the way is clear.' Smart move. 'Go to the statue.' The… statue? 'And I wish you the best.' He said something else, something Aiden could not sign based on the frown, and left without letting us protect. Of course. 

I frowned as I studied the rod, holding it up in the light. Magic. Traces of it, but still there. Used to spark, I wanted to say. I passed it to Aiden, shrugging at his confused look before pointing at the statue. It had to be that one. Magic to spark magic. 

Aiden nodded and headed over to it. I followed close behind and, as we walked, the rest of the group fell in slowly, so that by the time we were in front of the statue, we were all gathered together. Aiden glanced at the rod dubiously before pointing the rod at the statue and said something that the others could not sign. Immediately, the magic in the air spiked and burned. The sound of stone grinding against stone rumbled ominously. And slowly, very slowly, the statue moved. It groaned and stumbled, getting its bearings. I couldn't breath. 

There were stories of moving statues like this. The durgen'len once used them to protect themselves. The powerful golems of legend. I was looking at one. 

It said something. I knew it did because I could see the mouth move, glowing blue-white light inside showing the magic within. I couldn't understand it, of course. And the others looked far too shocked to sign for me. 

I stood in silence, watching the conversation, trying to get my thoughts steady in my head. It said something. Leliana cooed something sympathetic, covering her mouth. It said something again. Morrigan snickered while Wynne scowled. It rambled about something. Zevran laughed. 

I tried watching it, to get some sense of emotions, but I think we found the one thing in the world more stoic than Sten. A living statue. This was actually getting aggravating. 

The ground shook and I blinked slowly as I tried to process what happened. A bird landed on its shoulder. It immediately threw and stomped it. Clearly, the golem didn't like birds. Okay then. Nice to get _one_ thing about it! I noticed its eyes narrowed at the blood splatter before it shrugged innocently. Okay, maybe I could figure out how to gauge expressions on it after all. 

It pointed to me, said something, and all eyes widened as everyone whirled. _Even Sten_ looked sheepish. 

'I am so, so sorry!' 'How did we forget?!' 'This is unforgiveable! We'll have to make it up!' There was more, but it was a jumbled mess of signs that I couldn't read, and I glared to remind them that multiple threads did _not_ help me understand what was going on! 

Everyone got the hint, letting Aiden sign. 'This is Shale.' He used the sign for 'shale' and added 'important' with it. 'It's a golem.' The Circle actually had a sign for it. I didn't think we'd ever actually use it. 'And will be traveling with us on the account of acquiring free will and not knowing what to do.' …Wait, what? 'So, let's get going to Orzammar.' AIDEN, YOU COULDN'T JUST LEAVE IT AT THAT! 

I sighed, shaking my head, and smiled wryly at Shale, who stared back. I think it's safe to say we just gained the strangest companion ever. Fen'harel, you do enjoy your pranks! 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: And here's Shale! Inquisition reveals Cullen's family, and that he was born in Honnleath. While his three siblings survived the Blight, and made it to South Reach, his parents did not. Yes, the templar that's like 18/19 years old, has been tortured, had to watch his companions die, etc also has to deal with the knowledge that while this was going on, his parents were killed by darkspawn. Clearly, this wasn't a good year for Cullen. Anyway, this is why I had Mia cameo (she is his elder sister). Details on how Spirit Healers win Spirits over comes from the codex. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Layla in Denerim 


	70. Chapter 61) Hard in Denerim

Chapter 61) Hard in Denerim 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"My lady, you look marvelous. Might I suggest this silk? It would go so great with your little one's eyes." The merchant smiled warmly at me. I smiled back automatically, shyly hiding behind Mother's skirts._

_"Oh, it is very tempting," Mother murmured, eyes dancing as she stroked my hair. "Yes, let's take a bit."_

_"Wonderful!" The merchant measured out the silk and folded it neatly. "Here you go, my lady."_

_"Thank you." Mother passed some coins over, all pretty and glittering. "A bit extra, for being kind enough to think of my daughter."_

_"You're too gracious, my lady." The merchant's smile was sad. "I know your family is going through some troubled times."_

_"As does most of the Free Marches, but it is even more important to be kind when things are hard. It is too easy to become bitter. I think true courage lies in holding onto hope and compassion."_

_"Lady Revka, you are an inspiration." The merchant reached down and stroked my hair gently. "Be a good child for your mother, and take after her, no matter what happens."_

* * *

I was almost grateful for the nightmares of darkspawn. I thought a lot of Jowan's last moments during the day. If I had nightmares about it, it might have been too much. 

I glanced down at my hands, so certain I could see the blood on them. A person passed me, and I could smell their blood, sense the power within their body, reaching and yearning for someone, anyone, to release it. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth as my magic tried to take the power, use it. Surely, I could use it _so much better_ than them? I could use it to save… 

A hand took mine. I looked up to see it was Alistair, smiling softly as he gently uncurled my fist and squeezed my hand reassuringly. I could see my nail impressions, deep red in a lighter red palm. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, looking down at the ground. I had never realized just how _tempting_ blood magic was. You were constantly, _constantly_ , surrounded by sources of power, and you could always sense it. It was a test of wills, a battle I would likely fight for as long as I lived, just as I fought against the memories of the Arcane Warrior. 

"It's fine," he reassured. I knew he was uneasy. I knew he hated that I made the choice. But he made an effort to smile at me, and to be kind, and I appreciated it so, so much. "Glad I decided to check on you, though. We won't want you hurting yourself again." The first day of being a blood mage, I had cut myself on ice magic accidentally, so focused on keeping from seeking out blood that I lost control temporarily. "Are you all right?" 

"Let me just say I can understand why so many blood mages are insane." I sighed, and breathed in deep to settle my nerves. One, two, three, exhale. One, two, three, inhale. One, two, three, exhale. "I think I am steady again." 

"All right." We went back to walking, and I focused on my surroundings again. Against all logic, our group was in Denerim, to seek out a Brother Genetivi, who was apparently also searching for the Ashes. Nuada and Elspeth hoped to get information from him. "How did Nuada and Elspeth convince us that this was a good idea again?" 

"Something, something, no one would expect, something, something, lots of people, something, something." Well, I had to agree. There _were_ a lot of people in the market. It was hard to make sense of the chatter, but I heard quite a few people praising our group. That made me happy. "Oh, hey, they're new." Alistair pointed to a dwarven couple, happily doing business. 

"Dwarven crafts!" the male called. His wife handled the transactions. "Fine Dwarven Crafts, direct from Orzammar! You won't find better!" Alistair and I exchanged a look and shrugged before getting closer. "Sereda, have we sold out of the helmets?" 

"Just sold the last one for today, Gorim," the woman laughed. Her smile was bright, cheerful, and full of affection. "You're doing well as a merchant." Her eyes settled on us. "Hello there!" She waved to us. "Welcome to the little shop. Looking for something in particular?" 

"Not particularly," Alistair answered with a light tone and easy smile. "I used to live around here and noticed something knew, and being the ten-year-old child at heart, I had to come see the shinies." 

"You won't find shinier!" She laughed. "But yes, we're new. Bit of a tale as to why, Orzammar politics suck, but I'm Sereda Saelac, and this is my husband, Gorim. And you two are wardens." …Huh?! "I'm from a noble house in Orzammar. I saw Wardens often. We honor them." Her smile was still very warm, though she kept her voice quiet. "Wardens have a certain air about them. Similar to the darkspawn, but lighter." O-oh… "Now, then, would you like some recommendations?" 

"Probably a good idea. We've good weapons, but my shield is dented badly with all the fighting, and if you've a better sword for her…" He gestured to me. "We got her what we could, but Highever doesn't exactly stock swords meant for her build." Yes, it seemed most tiny humans did not opt for swords without a great deal of strength training first. 

"Ah, so that rumor was true and you lot helped out Highever?" Sereda bustled around the back of the stall, humming all the while. Her husband was talking to customers. "Nice to hear everything you're doing, especially with their fool of a Regent not recognizing the threat. Honestly, what is it with surfacers and their lack of appreciation for how bad darkspawn are? I'd feel safer with Bhelen, and he framed me for the death of my brother!" He… what…? "Here we go!" She produced a beautiful shield for Alistair, but my attention was on the sword she had. It was very, very different than any sword I had seen before. It had a long and thin blade, and the hilt was complex, like it protected the hand that wielded it. "Caught your eye, pretty miss?" 

"Oh, yes," I whispered. She handed Alistair the shield and passed me the strange sword. It was surprisingly heavy, for such a narrow thing, but it was wonderfully balanced as I swung it. "What is it?" 

"It's called a 'rapier'. It's Antivan." Oh… "This one, though, is dwarven make, like our stuff, meaning it's a _lot_ stronger than the norm. They're designed for thrusting, but we made sure it was sharp enough to slice if need be. Just don't expect it to be as good as a longsword." Ah… "Pair it with a main-gauche and you'll have a clever bit of fighting." 

"Why do you think this would suit me?" 

"Well, look at it. Pretty, lithe, and absolutely deadly when it wants to be." I felt myself flush lightly and her grin. "Besides, I bet it feels better in your hand." I nodded, smiling slightly. "Not sure on who can teach you how to wield it." 

"I have friends who have been to Antiva?" 

"Oh, they'll know then." She turned her attention to Alistair, who was admiring the shield. "Best I can think for you. I feel like the shield made for you isn't something that can be sold." She shrugged. "But that'll hold you." 

"And very nicely at that," Alistair laughed. He glanced over at me, and I nodded with a smile. "Right, how badly are you going to kill my coin-purse?" 

"Oh, it's not that bad!" Seneca joked, showing him over to where they made the sales. I hung back, admiring the 'rapier' and practicing some thrusts. It was easy to see just how this was made for it, but wow, it was pretty. 

"Good to go?" I squeaked when Alistair appeared by my side. "I'm convinced she gave us a discount, but I'll take it," he commented. "Let's go." 

"How much was it?" I asked, carefully removing my old sword and replacing it with the rapier. It even felt better hanging off my waist. 

"Less than I expected." 

"That is not an answer." 

"Yes, it is. It's just not the one you want." 

"Are you taking lessons from Nuada?" 

"No, but I should!" 

"No, you do not!" I sighed and he laughed. "Sometimes, Alistair…" 

"I know; I'm horrible." He grinned, but it faded for a serious look. "Mind if I ask something?" I gave him a curious look. "In Redcliffe, with Jowan…" I stiffened at the reminder. "Whose idea was it?" 

"…It was his." My voice shook. "He argued for it. I argued against it. But…" But it was too logical. I could not find counters. "I…" 

"Easy." He ruffled my hair. "I was just curious. The suggestion didn't seem like you." I smiled wryly. "Ah, and here we are at the Chantry. This is where we're meeting Nuada and Elspeth, right?" 

"Yes." We had split up to cover more ground. "I do not think I have been to a Chantry since Lothering." 

"This one isn't all that special." I gave him a curious look and he smiled bitterly. "I wasn't lying when I said I used to be from here. I was trained here, in Denerim, and it was here I was recruited by Duncan." Oh. "We would have our book lessons here, and borrow the castle training yard for the physical lessons." He leaned against the fence, looking to the sky. "I drove Cullen insane because I was better at weapons than him." Wait, did he just say…? "Yes, I know Cullen. I trained with him." Oh… "Not sure whether I'd call him a friend or not, but we looked out for each other. Others picked on him for being an older recruit, and shunned me for being a bastard noble. But we wrote each other frequently. Haven't since the Blight started." Ah. "He was the only one who never made fun of me." Alistair reached up to the sky, like he was trying to grasp something out of reach. "When I was here, I'd catch glimpses of my father. Sometimes, it looked like he was watching me, but it might've just been me wishing. He had to be ashamed of me, after all. Who wasn't? Even Arl Eamon turned me away eventually." Alistair… "Cailan would often come and watch. He probably just loved watching the fighting, but sometimes, on my worst days, I'd pretend he was there because I was, that he was cheering me on. I always did better, those days." His hand fell and he looked at me, eyes misty and smile bitter. "I don't think he even knew about me, though, so it was probably really pointless." 

"Alistair…" What could I say? I had no words. 

"But I've been thinking. What if all my problems are because I've never held my ground?" Hmm? "I always went with the flow, with a smile. I rage like a child when things don't go my way, but I never go out and actually _do_ something about it. I let them yell at me, never saying a word. I should've fought back. I should've held my ground." His smile warmed and his demeanor straightened and strengthened. "Or something. I don't know. I've been thinking, that's all." 

"I think it is a good idea." I smiled at him. "But let us try to keep arguing to a minimum if you do not agree?" 

"Oh, Maker, yes, I don't want to yell at anyone save Morrigan. Because she deserves it." Alistair! "Anyway, we're the first ones here. How about I show you around? There's not much, but it'll give us something to do." 

"That sounds good." 

* * *

"I didn't think I would see a rapier anywhere outside of Antiva or Orlais," Nuada murmured as he led our group towards some houses not far from the market. "Zevran probably knows more about it than me, but I remember taking fencing lessons. It was a fun diversion." 

"You just liked annoying Grand Duke Gaspard," Elspeth replied softly. She looked amused. "He could never decide if he wanted to praise or throttle you." 

"The best position to be in while in Orlais!" 

"Of course." Elspeth turned to me. "I can show you a couple of knife tricks, Layla, if you would like." 

"You could also teach her fencing. You followed me to my lessons." 

"Whyever should I deny you the chance to teach when you avoided it for so long?" Her eyes were distinctly mischievous as she added something, in a language I didn't understand. 

Nuada replied in a _different_ language, and I glanced at Alistair. He shrugged and smiled, apparently greatly amused, while I just sighed, annoyed. That annoyance faded for surprise as Elspeth suddenly turned _bright red_ , and Nuada laughed and laughed. What did he say?! 

"If you're worried about us overhearing, I promise you, neither of us speak whatever it was you were saying," Alistair reassured when Elspeth glanced at us worriedly. Elspeth breathed a sigh of relief. Seriously, what happened?! "I feel like I need to take lessons, though, if you two are going to keep doing that." 

"I… can teach you?" Elspeth mumbled awkwardly, tugging at the hair by her face. Nuada's laughter quieted to shaking snickers, and he was definitely red in the face. I patted his back as he struggled to get his breathing under control. "It is… not a problem…" 

"Really?" Alistair's eyes lit up, and I thought he was blushing slightly, even as he grinned. "I'd love that." 

"We can start tonight." 

"Sounds great. Also, is Nuada all right?" 

"He won't be if he doesn't shut up." Elspeth sighed, giving him a dirty look before pointing. "We're here." We stopped in front of a small, modest house, across from a bustling storm. "This is Brother Genetivi's house, assuming the rumors are true." She knocked on the door, and we heard some scrambling, yelps, and thumps before a loud 'crash'. 

We exchanged worried looks, but before anyone could knock again or call out, the door cracked open, revealing a frazzled looking person. "Ah, hello?" he greeted hesitantly. "Who are you?" 

"We're looking for Brother Genitivi," Nuada told him, not bothering to answer the man's question. "Is this not his house? We made an appointment." We did no such thing! Why would he say-?! 

"Ah, yes, I remember now." …What. "Please, come inside." The man opened the door, and we followed him in. Alistair and I were tense; Nuada and Elspeth were far too relaxed in my humble opinion. "I'm sorry for the trouble. My name is Weylon, and I serve as Brother Genitivi's assistant." We crowded into a small living room. It might have been larger without all the books, but I could not bring myself to be mad. These titles were fascinating! "I am afraid, however, that Brother Genetivi isn't in. I haven't seen him in weeks." He wrung his hands. "He's sent no word; it's so unlike him." 

"That's troubling." Nuada casually leaned against the table, brushing the hair behind his ear. Elspeth nodded like he had said something else, and moved to my side. "We were hoping to talk to him about the Sacred Ashes." 

"Please do not." Elspeth took my hand and tugged me after her. "His research must've led him to danger, again!" 

"Again?" 

"It was lost for a reason, yes?" And we were out of the room. What was going on? 

"That man holds himself too much like an assassin," Elspeth whispered. I gave her an incredulous look. "Yes?" 

"How can you claim something like that so quickly?" I demanded, following her as we wandered the house. "What if you are wrong?" 

"That is why Nuada lied about the appointment." 

"I still do not see how you can…" Wait… "Does this have to do with Antiva?" 

"Yes?" She gave _me_ a confused look. "Is something wrong?" 

"You saw him in half a heartbeat." 

"Oh, that is not impressive. Leliana and Zevran could have done it faster." That was not my point! "Now, let us look through things for clues." I sighed, whimpering a little at how weird Nuada and Elspeth were, and froze as my magic screamed, writhing towards something in the room next to us. Blood. There was a lot of blood in that room. "Layla?" Gentle hands took mine, squeezing reassuringly, and I spared a thought at how it was similar to what Alistair had done earlier today. No wonder they were crushing on each other. "What is it?" 

"There is blood in that room." I nodded to it. Elspeth nodded back and carefully tried the doorknob. It turned easily, and she poked her head inside. She closed it again, sighing and shaking her head. "Who is dead?" 

"At a guess, I would say 'Weylon'." She turned to me. "He is still frozen." The way she said it made me think she did not mean rigor mortis. "He is also naked." So, the man out there had killed him _and_ stripped him and… and he was a mage. Nuada and Alistair were with a mage. "I wonder what else is there." EXCUSE ME?! 

"We are not going to go to their aid?" 

"Alistair is a former templar, and has been teaching Nuada." She casually went to the next room, stepping in without a care as she rifled through some papers. I could only stare at her back. "I worry about Nuada, as he still has his other eye to lose, but I trust Alistair to take care of them both." She gave me a small smile. "I want to learn just why someone would kill a scholar's assistant." 

"…" I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Sometimes, even if I think you have a point, I cannot understand." She shrugged. "But you are basically saying you do not think we need to go help because they can take care of themselves." 

"Yes." She giggled. "I like being able to trust people again." I was not commenting. "Do you not think it is a good idea?" 

"I like being able to verify health, considering Alistair deflects things with humor and Nuada flat-out lies." 

"Well, I cannot deny that." She held up a journal, frowning. "Layla, do you mind verifying something for me?" I crept to her side, and figured out what she wanted confirmed instantly. 

"Yes, that is a bloody handprint." Elspeth nodded and opened it up, flipping through. "Why would it have that? Is that why that man killed the assistant?" 

"It could be." Elspeth still frowned. "Amidst ramblings about local legends and ancient trade routes, there's something about a village called 'Haven'." Where? "I have never heard of it." 

"So, we have to find a map?" A strangled scream caught my ear. "What was _that_?" 

"I believe Nuada and Alistair finally dealt with the man." Elspeth closed the book and sighed. "Let's go rejoin them, yes?" 

Not even bothering to reply, I led the way back to the room. Just as Elspeth said, the man was dead. Strangely, though, neither Nuada nor Alistair had their weapons out. What? Did they poison him or something? 

"I can't believe you snapped his _neck_ , Nuada!" Alistair was yelping as we walked in. I could not tell if he was impressed or horrified. "You made it look easy!" 

"It was, but only because you crushed his windpipe first," Nuada replied with a shrug. He waved at us. "So, find anything?" 

"I am afraid the real Weylon is a little to dead to hold a conversation," I deadpanned. The others snickered. "Elspeth found something, though?" 

"Nuada, do you recall anything about a village called Haven?" she asked, setting the journal on the table. "There are some directions in the book, but I would rather find it on a map." 

"No, I don't recall one," Nuada answered. He glanced at Alistair, who shrugged. "I don't think it's even on our map." Elspeth sighed. "Why? Where is it?" 

"If the notes are correct, then the Frostbacks." Was that not the mountains Aiden, Cleon, and the others went? …Wait. 

"…It's on the other side of Fereldan!" My feet hurt just thinking about it. "I wished we learned this sooner! Then we could've traveled with the others for a while!" I hoped they were having an easier time. "Okay, the next stop is our estate to borrow horses, because _fuck walking that far!_ " D-did he just say horses?! "Why am I getting odd looks?" 

"Nuada, you have not rambled like that since we were children." Elspeth's smile smile was warm and soft, large enough to scream just how happy she really was. "Also, are you certain Alistair and Layla know how to ride?" I did not! 

"You and I can. They can double up, and we'll teach them in the downtime we get." That sounded a bit better. I imagined I would ride with- "For weight distribution, we'll probably go with you and Alistair on one, me and Layla on another." Wait, what?! 

"Yes, that sounds good." Elspeth gave me a teasing little smile, and I scowled right back. "Is that all right, Alistair? I promise; I am moderately skilled." Alistair nodded, giving Nuada a dirty look. Nuada just grinned. "Let us go fetch the horses then." 

This was going to be a very long trip. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Ah, Sacred Ashes. This trip can have more pointless running about if you don't pass some checks and are forced to go to the ambush at Lake Calenhad. We have horses now because otherwise, everything is just going to drag. At this point, Alistair is 'officially' hardened. 
> 
> If you're curious about Gorim's wife… the default name for the female dwarf noble warden is Sereda. If you're curious about the TITLE… I couldn't think of something, though of how this is the chapter where Alistair is officially Hardened, thought of Varric's Hard in Hightown, and it went from there. I am sorry. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Orzammar with Aiden 


	71. Chapter 62) City of Stone

Chapter 62) City of Stone 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"You know, if there's one thing I think surfacers do right, it's that they acknowledge everyone." I paused in my work and glanced over at the dwarf merchant. I was moving some purchases into my lord's estate. "Ah, sorry, kid, just rambling," he dismissed, waving his hand. "Just… in Orzammar, there's these castes. You know; nobles, smiths, warriors, and the like." I nodded and went back to my moving. "But then you've the casteless." I paused again and looked at him in silent confusion. He pointed to his tattoo. "Casteless don't exist. Undesirable, marked from birth to let all know. And we don't go back to the Stone when we die, supposedly. Criminals, and the children of criminals." He shrugged. "Not sure if it's good or bad, but I think there's something good in being acknowledged. In someone looking you in the eye and saying, 'yes, you're there. You exist.'"_

_"What brought that on?" I finally asked as I returned to my work._

_"A couple of elves are being screamed at for something minor over there." What happened this time? "And I found myself thinking about how I would've given anything, once, to be yelled at like that, if only for the proof I was really here." He sighed. "Easy with that one. It's a lot lighter than it looks."_

_"All right."_

* * *

This was… probably the worst case scenario. Even with being prepared for worst case scenarios. Maker, damn all of Orzammar. 

"Lord Nuada mentioned the politcs were horrendous, but I think even he would be startled by this," I sighed, shaking my head, my signing delayed slightly as I tried to just think through everything. Orzammar was on lockdown because the king had died and two people were fighting for it. And the only one, in their eyes, who could answer the treaty was a king, and they weren't going to help until there was one. This was just fantastic. "We have been here only a moment and I already hate it here." It was too hot, for one. Heat radiated from the strange red goop churning and pulsing underneath the city like twisted water, and burned the air. Discordant clanging echoed on and on through the streets, and people milled about pointedly avoiding anyone armed, including us. Then there was the whole 'walk in and literally see a person die because of a political debate' thing that happened just twenty heartbeats ago. "I thought the Landsmeet was going to be the most complicated." A wave of heat washed over me. "Okay, what is the red goop?" 

"That would be 'lava', molten rock," Wynne answered. She looked fascinated as she looked over the edge of the bridge we were clustered on. "I wonder if there are runes that minimize the heat." This was minimized? Dwarves were the most insane of all the races. "So, what should we do?" She returned her attention to all of us, but we just looked at each other in silent question. What indeed… "If we're going to stand here much longer, we should move. Shale is attracting a lot of attention." For some reason that I couldn't attribute to just 'walking and talking statue'. The stares were far too awed and disbelieving for that. What was the importance of golems? I'd have to find out. 

"The way I see it, we're going to have to do here what we're planning in Fereldan," Zevran answered after a moment. He winked at some staring dwarves, who skittered away. I rolled my eyes at the antic and he flashed me a grin. "Pick a ruler and get his help." Except we hadn't talked about picking rulers yet. I think. Maker knows too much was going on for me to remember properly. Besides… 

'Right then.' Cleon's signs were sharp, and, combined with a droll look, they were also drier than the air. 'Pick a side,' he challenged. No movement at all, not even a half-formed sign. 'Well? Pick one, based on the bits of gossip we happened to overhear.' Yep, that was the rub. Who in flames do we pick when we knew _nothing_ about either? 

"I would say Bhelen." I wasn't surprised Sten voiced his opinion first. "The wastefulness of this society is abhorrent," he continued. Signs strong and firm, just like always. "Everyone has their own role, yes, but to claim that some have no role, no purpose, is ridiculous." I was somehow unsurprised he disliked those bits we heard about 'casteless'. "If the gossip-mongerers are truthful, he will change that." 

"But will that be safest for us?" Leliana asked softly. Her signs were softer, more hesitant, and she glanced at the dusty ground as she talked. "Bhelen is… ambitious, powerhungry. And while that isn't unusual for a ruler, would he truly keep his word with us? The gossips say he lied, framed his sibling for kinslaying. Harrowmont seems more likely to keep his word." 

"He also seems more easily manipulated," Morrigan added. Her signs were slow, thoughtful if not for her slight smirk. "We might get more out of him." 

"And what if he decides that there's no point in breaking isolation?" It took us a couple of moments to figure out who would sign for Shale. Wynne took it, making them sharp to convey Shale's annoyed tone. "Regardless, this is taking too long," it continued, eyes narrowing in what I thought might be a scowl. The slight shift in footing, still loud enough to echo, resembled an annoyed tic, at least. "Pick something and be done with it, so we can go about smashing skulls." Was it sad that I almost thought the words amusing? 

Still, I sighed. Okay, needed to think. Orzammar was convoluted. Both Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth had made that clear before we split up. So, what was the best way to fight convoluted politics? By playing the game. And in order to play the game… 

"Sten, Wynne, Morrigan are in one group," I ordered, making my signs crisp. Everyone looked to me. "Shale, Leliana, and Zevran are in another. One will go to Bhelen. The other will go to Harrowmont. You'll earn both their favors, while Cleon and I pretend to be the perfectly neutral Wardens." This way, no matter which side got the throne, we had promises. "Emphasize that you are companions to us, and are willing to speak on their behalf to us for our support. Give and take sort of thing. Be willing to do errands for them too. Stir up the city, make them willing to make more and more promises, promises you will dutifully relay to Cleon and me, and promises we _will_ call on." I blinked slowly as I realized everyone was staring at me in shock. "What? Will it not work?" 

"Let's just say, Aiden, that you are not only a sex god, but a crafty one," Zevran replied without missing a beat. I rolled my eyes again, and told myself that my face was flushing from the heat, not from embarrassment. "Do let me know the proper way to worship you?" 

"Follow orders." I sighed, shaking my head. "Anyway, unless someone has problems, we're going that way so that no matter what, we win. Period." Cleon and I would just need to kill some time. "Have fun, everyone. Please don't kill anyone unless they attack first. I'd rather not bust anyone out of jail today." 

'You want to check out the building behind us?' Cleon asked as the others walked off, separating already to better give the illusion of being 'torn'. Or something. 'Seems like a good place to wait for a while and be able to plead innocent in whatever these guys are doing.' 

"Yeah, that sounds good," I agreed, turning to head inside. "You think they have headache medicine?" 

'I have some.' He fished something out of his pack and passed it over. 'And other medicines.' Glad one of us was prepared. 'Also, have some water. It is way too freaking hot here.' 

"Glad I'm not the only one." I downed the medicine, and water, smiling in thanks. "Do you hear people cheering?" 

'Yes?' We stepped inside the building at last, and I sighed in relief at how _blessedly_ cool it was. 'What is this place?' 

"Oh, hello!" My attention focused on a dwarf coming to greet us. "Strange to see elves about," he noted. He eyed us closely before nodding. "Must be Wardens." 

"Yes, we are," I confirmed, making sure to sign for Cleon. "What is this place, though?" 

"This is the Proving Ground." He said it like there was something far more to it than what the words suggested. "Duels of great honor, whose outcomes are determined by the favor of the Ancestors." Was there a library around here I could get some answers about dwarven culture? "We had Warden Commander Duncan here not long ago, for a… sadly tainted Proving." Tainted? And Duncan had been here? "This one is a memorial Proving, held by Prince Bhelen for his father's recent death. I apologize for not being able to hold one in honor of your visit, Wardens. We try to do that whenever Wardens, or other guests come." 

"Other guests?" 

"Surfacers. King Maric came down here, six years ago now. That was a good Proving, the very best giving their all. His son, Prince Cailan, enjoyed it highly, and eagerly asked me about the rules and meanings behind the provings." I remembered how excited King Cailan had appeared before the fight. I thought of King Cailan's broken body, likely still tossed aside in Ostagar. "Came down with a couple of other youngsters. A pretty girl with blonde hair and sharp eyes named Anora. Kind and proper lady, most polite." Queen Anora, then. "Then there were these three siblings, all with black hair and blue eyes. Fergus, Nuada, and Elspeth." Right, Lord Nuada stated his knowledge came from personally visiting. "Fergus and Cailan got into the spirit of things, cheering as loudly as the rest of us. That Nuada boy had been laughing, but his eyes sharpened at the fight. I wondered if he wanted to join in." Maybe. "Elspeth, though, was stoic. Thought something was wrong with her." The dwarf shook his head with a laugh. "And I'm rambling on and on about nothing. How is Duncan, though?" Ah…. "Doing well, I trust?" 

"…Master Duncan passed away in the battle of Ostagar." A dull ache washed through me. "He died so that Cleon and I could get off the field and seek aid." I was startled that it hurt. It hurt that he died before telling us more. It hurt that he died keeping us safe. And it hurt that he died, leaving the fate of Fereldan, and the world, in our hands. 

"…I see…" The dwarf closed his eyes. I took the opportunity to glance over at Cleon, who gave me a strained smile. He hurt too. "Stone watch over him, then. He was a good man, if a bit odd." He opened his eyes. "You two are here to try and get Orzammar's help." We nodded. "Which you're having trouble getting because of everything going on." We nodded again. "…You two want to participate in the Proving?" Huh? "Be good for working out frustrations. They're not to the death, though it's an honorable way to go out if it happens." Ahaha… "Wardens, though, are always treated. There are far too few of you." Okay. "And if you do well, you'll remind the people why your Order is the only one to ever understand our plight, and win supporters. After all, this is a Proving. You only do well if the Ancestors favor you." I wasn't sure if _anyone_ was favoring us, much less dead dwarves. 

Still, I glanced over at Cleon, and he nodded. "We'd be honored." It would give us something to do. And if it helped, all the better. 

* * *

'Well, that went well?' Cleon, of all the things you could've signed, did it have to be something so understated? Despite what I thought going in, we won, handily, and had immediately been dragged to bunches and bunches of luncheon… tea… things… with nobles all talking to us. Or, well, walking to me. Cleon quite happily stuffed his face, using his deafness as a means of getting out of being politely social. 'I think that one girl was seriously trying to get into your pants.' 

"Cleon, I will hurt you," I grumbled, making sure my signs conveyed just how annoyed I was. Still, the rumors… "Seems like the others are doing a good job capitalizing on the victories, though." There had been three arguments in the market alone. All over which candidate had _our_ favor. And the favor of the Ancestors that had been bestowed on us. "I need quiet, though. Seriously." 

'I thought you were doing a good job paying the gallant and humble warrior.' I gave him a dirty look and he flashed a grin before pointing. 'That area is empty.' Almost… unnervingly so. 'Down we go?' 

"Why not?" With a shrug, we heading down, right into a cloud of dirt and dust. "Oh, maybe that's why not." I coughed, trying to clear my throat, and my eyes watered as all the dust flew in my face. "What is this place?" 

'Dusty old ruins, with people living in them.' And it was a… sharp difference. It was like we were in a completely different city. It was… like the Alienage, but worse. There was no sense of camaraderie, no sense of family. No sense of 'home.' Just a place where the dregs of society were thrown away, and kept hidden from those that visited. 'No offense, Aiden, but I think we found the one place worse than your Alienage.' 

"I was thinking the same thing…" Absently, we wandered, glancing around. I gave coin to those I saw. I couldn't not, especially when I saw the tattoos on their face. A merchant I met once told me about how the casteless weren't acknowledged. A bit of coin for food, or even drink… it was more than they had. More than they'd ever have. How did they live? Survive? Elves in the Alienage would often turn to crime. Did they do the same? I couldn't blame them, not one bit. 

"Pardon, but do you have coin to spare, my lord?" I froze at the title. No. I wasn't a lord, by any means. "It's for my son." Slowly, I turned to the voice, and crouched down to be on eye level with the thin, exhausted woman, cradling a sleeping child to her chest. Unlike the others, she had no brand on her face. "I'm sorry to bother you, but my son is sick," she whispered. Her hand gently brushed over the baby's face. He protested, but it was weak, far too weak. "If you have any to spare, I'd appreciate it." 

"You seem different from the others here," I whispered. I gently took the baby's hand and noticed their grip was also weak. "Are you alone? Did something happen to the baby's father?" 

"Ran like a coward, when I bore him a son, and not a daughter who could raise him to the Mining Caste." She sounded bitter, so I didn't bother asking for clarification. But I did get one thing confirmed, I think. She wasn't casteless. "I've not seen him since, so here I am, alone on the streets, forbidden to return to my family unless I…" She shook her head almost violently. I noticed the bruises on her. "I can breastfeed him fine. I'm still healthy enough for that." Barely, I thought. Honestly, studying her now, she looked like she was on death's doorstep. Too thin, too bruised, too sick herself. "But a mother's milk can't fix an illness, especially when dwarves rarely get sick anyway. And I…" Her breath hitched and she started crying. "Sorry, I don't know what to do. Only what I cannot bear to think of." 

Cleon's hand fell on my shoulder, and I glanced up at him. His eyes were pained as he signed, 'see what we can do? Please?' 

I nodded. Of course we would. "My name is Aiden Tabris," I whispered, using my sleeve to dab the tears off her face. "My friend here is Cleon Mahariel. He's deaf, so please don't be offended at him not talking." Cleon made a point to smile. "What all happened to you?" 

"My name is Zerlinda," she murmured. "I was born to the Mining Caste. And I fell in love with a casteless." Okay…? "I think… no, I know he was just using me. A way the casteless can gain recognition is by parenting a child of a higher caste. There's noble hunters all over the place. Bhelen's got one who bore him a son." So, gold digging as a means of surviving. I couldn't blame them. "It's my own fault for being taken in by his lies. If I had a daughter, she would've inherited my caste, but since my child was a boy, he got his father's caste. Casteless." Okay, that made… a little sense… I suppose…? "My family disowned me, and refuse to restore my caste unless I abandon my son to the Deep Roads, pretend I never bore him." Both Cleon and I stiffened at that. No. That just… no. "The Shapers might teach that only children of true lineage exist, but they never carried a child. There is nothing wrong with him. There's nothing wrong with _any_ of the casteless, save what is forced on them!" 

"Maybe I can reason with your family." The words fell out before I could stop them, and I honestly had to ask myself if my 'reason' would be with words… or with the giant greatsword I wielded. Still, she stared at me in startled wonder. "Children don't deserve to suffer." 

"Thank you…" But her smile was skeptical. "My father, Ordel, is a stiff-necked old man, though. If you're still willing to try, he's normally at Tapster's right about now." 

"All right. Cleon will stay and help you where you can." Cleon waved and smiled, crouching down to play with the baby's hands. "He's got some medicine as well, so maybe that'll help." Zerlinda's smile was still skeptical. She was too tired to hope. "I will be back as soon as possible." 

And I bolted, out of the dusty town, straight through the crowd. Tapster's she said. Cleon and I had been there just earlier for some victory drink thing after the Proving. 

As I glanced around, wondering just where I was going to find Zerlinda's father, I found my attention focusing on a strange dwarf huddled in the corner. Armored, but not armed. Drunker than drunk, but still caught every twitch and movement around him. Nothing wasted in his movements, even though he only reached for more alcohol. Who was…? No, later. I needed to move quickly. 

Another quick glance led me to a man who looked a lot like Zerlinda. Taking the chance, I approached him. "Pardon me," I murmured, making myself polite. Politeness was good and key right now. "Are you Ordel?" 

"I am," the dwarf murmured. He eyed me warily. "Do you have business with me? I was just about to leave." Luck was on my side then. 

Mostly. "I met your daughter." His expression locked up and he tried to slip past me. But I shifted to continue standing in his way, and narrowed my eyes in a clear and silent threat. He was going to stay and talk with me. "Down in Dust Town." 

"I have no daughter." I stiffened. Temper… temper… bad things happened when I lost my temper. It was… it was good to hate, according to the Lady of the Forest, but I had to keep my temper. "You must have met a casteless whore who claims she once was." 

"I met a young mother who will die trying to keep her son safe." His expression flickered. Worry. Okay, I could do this. "That's what is happening. She's dying." 

"You think she would die just to keep that… that thing?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes. I grit my teeth. Temper…! "She knows what she has to do to come back. I never wanted her gone. Just the little-" 

"Just her son. Just the son she spent months carrying, going through health crisis after health crisis to bear." Pregnancy was dangerous for human and elven women. I doubted dwarven women faced less dangers. "How can you expect her to just kill him and forget?" Was I glaring? I might be. "What of you? Can _you_ just forget her?" 

"…No…" He sighed, shaking his head. "I've been trying. But it's not easy." He hesitated. "Tell her we never meant to hurt her, we just thought it…" He shook his head again, almost violently. "No, just tell her to come home. Her mother and I are waiting." 

"And the baby?" 

"And the baby." He sighed. "I'll go get things ready." 

"…Thank you." I smiled then. "I'll go help her then." 

It might be a small thing in the course of things, but I couldn't deny just how nice it felt, to be able to help her. 

* * *

It took some convincing to get Zerlinda to believe me, but we soon had her bundled up and safe in her home, with the baby being tended to. We stuck around for another meal, because damn if Cleon or I could think of a polite way of saying 'our stomachs are almost bursting', before headed up to the Shaperate, a place where I could get questions answered about dwarven culture. And promptly reunite with Shale and Sten. Because, for some reason, they were here instead of wherever their groups were. 

"I take it you two got tired of kissing ass?" I noted dryly. They both gave me slightly confused looks. "Sorry, it's a phrase. Basically, you got tired of pretending to be nice when you really wanted to cleave whoever you were talking to in two." 

"I wanted to smash them with a fervor I normally only reserve for the vilest and most evil creatures. Birds." It took everything I had to not burst into laughter at Shale's words. "But they mentioned a Shaperate who might be able to help with my missing memories," it continued, shrugging slightly. Somehow. I still didn't get how someone could make such a lifelike statue _that moved_. All I knew was that Shale was Shale, a living being that looked way different from me. "So, here we are." 

'How did you two meet up, though?' Cleon signed, smiling in amusement as he glanced around the area. Books all around. Mistress Layla, Lady Elspeth, and Morrigan could probably spend _days_ in this place, and not get bored. 'You were in different groups.' 

"We met lunch in a tavern," Sten answered. His slight sneer left no question as to what he thought of the place. "To discuss what future plans there were to drive more madness into the city. This is supposed to help us?" 

"Providing we take advantage of the madness," I answered. This time, it was my turn to shrug. "Stir them up into chaos, force them to give us lots of pretty promises, and then when we settle the dust back into order, we have people who owe their power to us, and we are in the perfect position to _make_ them uphold their promises." Sten didn't look like he quite understood, but the fact he nodded proved he had faith in me. Honestly, that meant a _lot_. 

'Why do I have a feeling the Landsmeet is going to be simultaneously hilarious and terrifying?' Cleon signed, a raised eyebrow adding dryness to the signs. 'You are so going to be in charge of something.' 

"I am not. That will be Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth. _Their_ plan is already in motion, if you'll recall, with the rumors spiraling out of Highever and Redcliffe." 

'True. The rumors were even in the market outside.' And it was glorious to hear. 'By the time we're out, we should _really_ have some news.' And, with luck, an army to back us up. 'So, have you all found out anything about golems then, Shale, Sten?' 

Whatever reply they might've had, an explosion rocked the ground, and for a split second, I was certain, and terrified, we were about to fall into the 'lava' below. But there was nothing. Nothing but a very, very confused Cleon, who had to have felt the tremor, but had no source for it. 

I caught his sleeve, mostly to silently tell him that we were getting to the explanation, before focusing on Shale and Sten. "Please tell me that explosion was my imagination," I half-joked. Shaking his head with a slight smile, Sten simply pointed out the door to the screaming populace. "Right. Damn it." Sighing, I headed outside, wondering what was going on. 

My eyes automatically fell on the girl, armed to the teeth, casually sitting on the railing of the walkway, a point of calm as everyone else raced about like headless chickens. She was looking right at me, her surprisingly gentle smile drawing attention to the brand on her face. 

When she had my attention, she darted off into the crowd, pausing just once to look back at me. 'Follow me.' And, like an idiot perhaps, I did. Pushing through the crowd, trusting the others were following. Sliding into a store, and then into the tunnel in the wall, the rubble hinting on just where the explosion had been. Down and down, deeper into the tunnels. 

The girl disappeared at the end, but that was fine. Because I was looking at a whole bunch of people, ready to kill me. I'd call 'trap', but… well, these people looked at shocked to see me as I was to see them. Thankfully, though, all of us were wandering about with our weapons. 

Cleon spared me a single, annoyed glance before sliding along the edges of the battle, slipping in to rip someone apart before sliding out of the battle again. One of Zevran's tricks? It did help keep his back away from enemies. So long as someone wasn't hiding. …Okay, I was worried. 

Or, well, I was. Until Shale slammed into nearby enemies, splattering them against the wall, before shifting slightly, the markings around its neck shifting and shimmering from pale blue to orange to teal. It bellowed, stunning those nearby, and for some reason, everyone just tried to attack it. Despite it being something _literally made of stone_. 

A tap on my shoulder caught my attention again, and I turned to see Sten giving me the most disapproving look, pointedly nodding to the enemies. In response, I pointed to Shale, who looked all too amused at the dwarves' attempts to hurt it as it punched them across the room. Cleon ducked and weaved around the punches, taking out those actually chipping Shale. It was impressive. 

Not that the impressiveness made Sten disprove any less of my standing around and staring, given the droll look he leveled. I rolled my eyes and sighed, palming my greatsword and stepping forward to get into the fight. And promptly went flying, crashing to my back, as a damn explosion went off because I tripped something and there were _traps_! Traps! Where in flames was I and why were there traps and what was going _on_? 

"So, you someone's dog?" I tried to push myself up, only to find a dagger caressing my cheek. "Whose, I wonder?" The wielder of the dagger, a hard-eyed woman, sneered as she slowly pressed her dagger into my cheek, cutting a slow, even line. "Someone who knows where the true power of Orzammar lies?" she purred. The dagger was almost at my eye. My greatsword wasn't close enough, assuming it had survived that explosion. I could barely see the hilt out of the corner of my… not currently being threatened eye. "Down here with Orzammar's dirty little secret?" 

"I'm afraid I don't really know what you're talking about," I told her honestly. I still heard fighting. My friends were still fighting. Somewhere. But I still shouldn't wait to be rescued. "I ran down a tunnel that opened up." 

"You expect me to believe you?" She laughed. It sounded harsh, broken and remade. "Well, at least you're giving me a laugh before you die." That dagger was getting far too close to my eye. No offense to Lord Nuada, but I didn't want to emulate him in being one-eyed quite yet. 

"Sorry, but…" I reached a hand into my boot, fingers curling around the sheath hiding there. "I'm not in a hurry to see just what the Maker really thinks about elves." Dagger in hand, I slammed it into her throat, right where it met the jaw, and decapitated her in a _far_ too easy swing. Either people were more fragile than I thought, or I was stronger. I didn't know which one I felt more comfortable with. 

Still, I was glad I listened to Zevran, Leliana, and Lady Elspeth and gotten a sheath for Mother's dagger that easily hid in my boots. It was good to have a weapon when no one expected it. 

Humming caught my ear and, tensing, I turned to the sound, and saw the girl again. "And with that, the mighty Grey Wardens cripple the Carta." She meandered through the corpses, half-skips carefully placed to shake the bodies, checking the dead. "Of course, it will rise up again, but to do what even Orzammar's finest couldn't manage? Oh, how greatly the Ancestors favor them." She stopped in front of me, smiling up. "Sorry about not giving you information," she told me lightly. Her smile was still kind and gentle. "Meant to, but then someone screwed up with the explosives, and had to move fast." I didn't even know what just happened. "The name is Natia Brosca. I'm part of the Carta. And, considering I'm the best fighter of the survivors easily, I'm the leader." Oh. Great. "Meaning you just got some allies." Huh? "Look, I like Wardens. This nice one named Duncan got me out of a mess of trouble." Saving everyone, huh, Master Duncan? "And it sucks that you can't get help. But the Carta's reach is long, reaching even the surface. Whatever ass sits in the throne, you'll have Carta helping with information, smuggling, hired thugs… things no one likes to admit are needed." 

"But to do that, you needed command," I summarized, relaxing ever so slightly. I glanced around for the others, and noticed them ducking into a different hallway. Checking that reinforcements weren't coming? "I got played." 

"Eh, no worse than what you're doing to Orzammar right now." I couldn't argue that. "And, like I said, my original plan was to, you know, actually have a conversation? Tea and crumpets, and _then_ explosions." 

"Quite ladylike." 

"I know, right? Rica's been teaching me so that I don't embarrass her and Bhelen in front of the nobles." Huh? "My sister, Rica, is Bhelen's concubine, though he's supposedly planning on marrying her?" She shrugged, and I heard the clink of weapons. How many did she have on her? "I don't know, or really care, and neither should you. I can keep my sister safe no matter what. I always have. But, hey, speaking of information, you want a hint to break the deadlock?" What. "Afraid it's only a hint. It's better to get all the information from the source, even if the source is probably up to his eyebrows in bad alcohol." 

"Sure." My head was spinning. "What the hint?" 

"Talk to Oghren." Oghren? "You'll know him. Redhaired dwarf with a beard, drunk off his ass, and still one of the best damn fighters Orzammar has ever seen. Why they didn't kill him when he killed little lord whats-his-face on accident, no matter what they claim. The darkspawn are too damn strong." 

"I'll find him, then." I nodded to her. "Thank you, Natia." 

"Not a problem. Consider it part of the apology for dropping you in the middle of a fight without context." She grinned. "By the time you're back, I'll have everything set up for you. You have fun now." 

Why did I suddenly get a _really_ bad feeling about what was going to happen? "Just one question." She tilted her head, eyes curious. "Why come after Wardens? Why did you think…?" 

"Well, Wardens are nice and strong, I like Wardens, and you two were in Dust Town earlier. Gave coin without looking like you were pitying, and you helped out Zerlinda." She shrugged. "Girl like that is too nice for Dust Town, and it warms my heart to see her fight so hard for her baby, even though everything she had ever been taught should've made her leave the baby without a second thought. I'm willing to place my bets on someone who was willing to help." 

"Yay for my bleeding heart." She laughed, bright and cheerful. "Another time then, Natia." I really needed some headache medicine. 

* * *

I sent Shale and Sten to find the others while Cleon and I tracked down 'Oghren'. A couple of questions, and after getting some of the most disturbed looks, we were walking into Tapster's, again, and I discovered that 'Oghren' was the dwarf that caught my eye earlier. 

Cleon's nose wrinkled as we approached the dwarf. 'Way too much liquor,' he signed when I gave him a questioning look. 'I feel like I'm getting drunk just breathing in the fumes.' 

"Want to stay back and keep an eye on the others?" I asked. He smiled sheepishly. "Go on, but keep an eye on me. Just in case." 

'As if you need to ask.' Cleon slipped back, keeping his back to the wall and smiling politely at those who waved at him. 

I, however, just sat down at Oghren's table, knocking the wood to catch his attention. "Pardon, but are you Oghren?" I asked as his eyes slowly focused on me. Was he sober enough for a conversation? "I'm Aiden Tabris." 

"One of the Wardens that have been the fuss of the kingdom." Rough voice, like he'd deadened his throat will all the alcohol. But the eyes that focused on me were strangely sharp. "Well, the rumors got some of it right," he noted, knocking back the last of whatever had been in his mug. "On what you look like." 

"Rumors?" 

"Bunches and bunches. Strong and muscular, but with a fair face, skin of the precious red clay used for only the most priceless of pottery." I wasn't certain I liked having my skin color compared to a type of dirt, but I suppose it was 'nice' dirt? "Strong jaw. Missing the glowing nimbus, though." The what. "Your fellow is described as slight and slender, with quiet danger presence of slime moss." Of _what_? "Slime moss is a sentient thing that moves with quickness as soon as they detect some sort of warmth, enveloping and dissolving targets with acid. Very dangerous. Lots of miners lose their lives to the things." FROM MOSS?! "A danger you don't expect, basically. Missing the glittering-green glow, but the deafness seems to be there. Quiet, and doesn't react to loud noises, just big gestures. Must be a recent thing." He shrugged, even as I tried to figure out how a lush determined that much. "I'm guessing he bowed out of 'talks' to keep things polite. Or couldn't stand the smell. Either-or." I smiled politely, and didn't answer. "What do you want?" 

"I was told you knew a way to end the deadlock." I decided to just get down to business. "Do you?" 

"I might." His guard was up. He might be unarmed, but I didn't doubt he could kill me with just a punch. It wasn't like I wore a helmet. "What's it to you?" 

"I'm a Warden. I need help against the Blight. No one on the surface is taking it seriously." 

"Bah, surfacers. Your 'Blights' are our everyday." He leaned back in his chair, eyeing me warily. "You want a king to help." 

"Apparently, that's the only way I can force the dwarves to help. There's not a lot of 'goodness in one's heart' around here." He laughed and reached for another mug. I reached over to stop him. "If you don't know, that's fine. I apologize for disturbing you. But if you do, then I need that help. You can't tell me having an Archdemon flying about is good news for you." 

"Well, no, it's not." He sighed, pulling his hand back from the mug. "You're looking for Branka, my wife." Okay? "Our only Paragon, who disappeared in the Deep Roads two years ago. I've been searching for her ever since, but no one else has bothered." What was a Paragon? "Paragon is a 'living ancestor', respected and worshiped. Noble houses are descended from Paragons." Ah. Oh, wait, I think I understood. "You're going down to look for her?" 

"If that's what it takes to end the deadlock." Still, a question. "Why was she down there?" 

"That's my secret." Oh, for crying out- "To make sure you take me along." …Ah. "I want to find her. If you're heading down, then so am I." With the alternative being wandering about the extensive Deep Roads. 

"I see no problem with that." I smiled. "But can you give me at least a hint?" 

"The Anvil of the Void, which the Smith-Paragon Caridin used to forge golems." …Golems like Shale? "Orzammar had peace with it, protected by the golems." Meaning that if we went down here, maybe Shale could learn some things. Like where it came from, should it choose, or even just 'what to do now', since it was coming with us only because it didn't know what to do. "That enough?" 

"For now, yes. When we're deeper inside, I hope you'll trust us to explain more." I heard a small bit of ruckus near the door, and I saw the others walk in, Cleon going to them instantly. "Well, then, I have a very important request from you." Oghren's eyes narrowed warily. "None of my group have ever been to the Deep Roads. If you can tell me what we'll need, I would be grateful." 

"…You want _my_ advice?" He sounded skeptical, but sighed. "Kid, you're a weird one." 

"A weird one who wants to get things done. So?" 

"All right, al right, give me numbers for your group. I think I haven't drowned that part of my brain in liquor yet." 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Technically, in game, you can play both sides. Or play one and then choose the other. It's actually hilarious to do so. Provings are fun, I adore the Zerlinda sidequest, and I hate Orzammar with a passion. Natia is the default name for the female dwarf commoner. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Nuada in Haven 


	72. Chapter 63) Haven of Madness

Chapter 63) Haven of Madness 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_It was always strange to hear the Chant. It was pretty and kind when sung, but it was always difficult to take seriously, because the ones singing it were… horrible._

_We sat and listened, some honor Empress Celene wanted to give Father, but my gaze kept turning to the stained glass windows of the cathedral in a desperate attempt to stay awake. It was boring. It was nonsense. I had seen the one singing of peace and kindness refuse to pass out food and medicine to the poor just a few days ago._

_I hated the Chant. I hated the Chantry. They were horrible hypocrites who only loved power._

_"Are you enjoying yourself, Lord Nuada?" I plastered a smile on my face as I turned to face Empress Celene. In a show of polite deference, she wasn't sitting with Father and Mother, but rather with Fergus, Elspeth, and me, closer to the back._

_"Oh, yes, Empress Celene, it's beautiful," I lied to her. Lying was easy, and in Orlais, if you didn't lie, you died. "Thank you very much for bringing us."_

* * *

So, in my attempts to keep an even weight distribution for the horses, and to tease Elspeth and Alistair, I had completely neglected the whole 'oh, wait, Layla will be riding with me, all pressed up against me for prolonged periods of time' part of the riding pairings. Yeah, the trip to Haven was an exercise in self-discipline. It didn't help that we added some time to our travels because we couldn't figure out what Brother Genitivi meant by his directions thanks to some of the tangents he put in. 

"Is anyone else freezing?" Alistair complained as we rode up the slope that, in theory, led to Haven. He looked miserable, bundled up in his cloak and clinging to Elspeth's waist. "Maker, it's cold. Why did Andraste's ashes get hidden in a cold place? WAH!" Alistair almost fell off the horse, again saved only by Elspeth manuvering the horse to steady him. "Ugh… sorry. I seem to have a talent for falling off horses." I'd say. That was the tenth time today and the sun wasn't all that high in the sky yet. 

"I'm not sure if it makes you feel better, but Uncle Maric did too," I told him. Alistair looked a little dubious. "I'm serious. Cailan's skill with a horse came from his mother, not his father. Uncle Maric was so used to falling that he specifically rigged his armor to have cushioning for it." 

"There was a time where we were hunting," Elspeth added, petting her horse's neck to soothe him. As per usual, Elspeth chose a stallion for her mount, and I would forever think her insane for preferring the fiery nature. I liked my gelding just fine, and I suspected Layla did too. "We were chasing after a boar and had switched to galloping to close the distance, but when Cailan went to aim, we heard a loud clang that even startled the boar. We turned back and saw Uncle Maric had fallen off the horse and he had looked just so resigned to it." 

"Loghain helped him up without even looking, and insisted we keep on going like nothing happened. Of course, we all just burst into laughter, barely able to keep on the horse ourselves." I snickered at the memory. "Never did catch up with the boar." 

"To actually answer your question, Alistair, I think you are the only one so bothered by the cold," Layla murmured. She actually looked just fine. "Mages do not get warm or cold easily. That is why Morrigan is never bothered by the temperature despite how… open her clothing is." You know; I was so used to her by this point that it took me a second to remember that Morrigan _did_ show a lot of skin. Huh. "Of course, I am certain Elspeth would remain stoic in a blizzard, while Nuada would just laugh off frostbite." 

"Ouch, Layla, I don't mind a little bite, but can we leave my poor fragile ego alone?" I teased. She rolled her eyes and I laughed. "Oh, to be the victim of such beauty, such woe befalls me!" 

"This is exactly what I mean." She sighed. "I have to keep a constant eye on… oh, Nuada, there is a branch at eye-height on your right." I ducked my head to let it pass over me. "What was I saying? I think I was scolding." 

"I live for your lectures, dearest Layla. But, tell me, is that a fence on the right? I can't see it well, thanks to the snow." 

"You could turn your head." 

"But then I lose a perfect excuse to whisper in your ear." Her face turned bright red. "Goodness, are you running a fever?" 

"You are impossible!" 

"I exist, so I imagine I am quite possible." 

"Nuada, go easy on the flirting before you give her an apoplexy," Elspeth cut in, voice lilting and chiding. She was smiling, though, eyes dancing with mischief. "As much as it warms my heart to see you having fun, things are serious." Yes, yes. 

"Do you two seriously not every notice when you switch languages?" Alistair asked. I couldn't help but smile in pride when I realized he had complained in Orlesian. It was clumsy Orlesian, he did not pronounce a couple words correctly, but it was Orlesian nonetheless. "I caught maybe half of what Elspeth said." 

"It is better than me," Layla sighed, sulking. "I have no idea what she said." She pointed to the right. "That is a fenced in graveyard. I would say we are close." Typically that was indeed the case when you saw graves and fences. 

Still, I had to admit that I wasn't expecting a guard at the very entrance of the place. "What are you doing here in Haven?" he spat, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "There's nothing for you here." It seemed it was time to lie. We had ridden way too long to turn away now. 

"Forgive us, please," I replied, smiling as charmingly as I could. I saw the man relax slightly. "We're travelers, but with the recent troubles, we got lost. Is there a chance we might at least replenish our supplies?" 

"I… suppose so." He moved out of the way. "But stay clear of the Chantry. The Revered Father is holding a sermon right now, and we do not take well to outsiders sitting in." Did he just say Revered _Father_? I had never heard of such a thing. Perhaps Tevinter had something like that, their Divine was male, but this was Fereldan. "Our ways are traditional, and not the ways of the lowland cities." Well, that much was obvious. "You may trade in the shop, but be on your way after that." 

"You are a kind man." We dismounted, tying the horses loosely to a nearby tree, and walked past the guard, glancing at each other as soon as we were certain he'd lost interest. "Anyone want to make a bet?" 

"Oh, no, surely this is a kind little village that is just a little quirky and not hiding anything," Alistair _immediately_ deadpanned. Elspeth hid a smile behind her hand, Layla muffled a giggle, and I snickered. "So, what do we do? I did notice the 'kind man' didn't exactly give us directions." 

"Yes, so we can split up to investigate, and blame our wanderings on not knowing where the 'shop' is," Elspeth said. She nodded to Layla. "Layla and I can split off, to use the need for 'feminine products' to explain why we separated." 

"If they are like those in the Circle, they will immediately quiet and slink away awkwardly too," Layla murmured, still muffling giggles. Her eyes danced in mischief. "Neiria and I used that excuse a few times to slip away from Anders and…" Her expression faltered before returning to her cheer. She must've thought of Jowan. "Regardless, shall we?" 

With nods and murmurs, we wandered off. Glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention, Alistair and I snuck into a house, closing the door behind us. The inside was empty, likely due to that sermon, and it looked like a fairly normal house. There were books, pots, pans, evidence of food preparation, and other things you would expect. But there was one thing that stood out, an altar. It was like one you would see in a chapel, for home worship, but unlike all the ones I had seen before, it was covered in dark, rust-colored blotches that left far too much to the imagination, especially when there was a pool of fresh blood, so large it ran over the sides. 

"It's always the little towns in the middle of nowhere that have the creepy secrets," I sighed, crouching down by the altar. There were some signs of coagulation, so it was not 'recent-recent'. You notice that? It's like that in the stories too." 

"Maybe it was used for food preparation," Alistair half-joked. I glanced back and saw him pointedly looking away. 

"Meat doesn't bleed this much. I think." 

"I'm just trying to be optimistic. The other explanations are slightly more disturbing." 

"I suppose so." 

"Why in flames are you so nonchalant, Nuada?" 

"I am doing my best to _not_ think about how there is that much blood on something that is conveniently the size of a toddler." 

"…Maker, I hate you." Alistair groaned, rubbing his temples, and helped me up. "Where would they hide a body?" 

"With the altar out so open, I don't think it would be 'hiding' so much as 'disposing'." I crossed my arms as I thought. "Things are quite frozen, so I imagine it would be difficult to dig. However, you could just throw a body in the woods here easily and let the scavengers take care of it. You could also just chop the body up small and toss it around. I'm not sure of the water sources here, but if there's multiple…" I trailed off when I realized Alistair was giving me the drollest look. "I'm talking too calmly of creepy things again, aren't I?" 

"Let's just say I'm glad you're not a crazed serial killer right now." 

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry for disturbing you." He mimed a blow to my head, which I ducked. "Anyway, I think we found sufficient evidence that things are strange, and that we need to hurry on our search." Casually, I opened the door again to check on whether or not there were people around. I promptly closed it again when I saw the arrows flying our way. They thudded in the door, and were quickly followed by the sounds of weapons bashing again and again. Well then. 

"Are… we being attacked?" Alistair asked slowly. I nodded. "You have got to be kidding me." I wish. 

"Ah, I did so want a reminder of Highever's Fall today," I growled, bracing myself against the door to keep them from bursting in. "They are truly lovely hosts to give me my desires." The frame splintered. "How did they notice us anyway? There wasn't anyone around!" 

"I'll look for a back door!" Alistair yelled. I heard him running and scrambling as I shifted to get better footing. I tried to lock the door, but it was already busted. Of course it was. "Nuada, got one!" It was nice for things to be convenient for _us_. "Can you hold on a bit longer?" 

"I can." I flinched as something scraped right by my blind right eye. I did _not_ like this. "The door can't." 

"Door doesn't have to." I head something scrape the floor. "Move!" I threw myself back, and the door burst open to reveal some angry looking villagers. 

Those villagers were promptly squashed when Alistair toppled a giant shelf right on top of them. Well, that was… actually, I felt like laughing. 

"Nuada?" Alistair came up on my blind side, careful to call my name before helping me up. "Door?" 

"Yeah," I agreed. I felt along the right side of my face, checking for injuries. I found a lot of blood. "I hope the girls were able to deal with the threat much more elegantly." 

"What's more elegant than making human pancakes?" Ha! "Okay, just creeped myself out. Let's go." 

* * *

So, the back door ended up being a direct route to the lake. Alistair and I ended up heading there to get our bearings and, in the process, nearly had Elspeth shoot out my other eye. I was having _such_ a great day. 

"I am so sorry!" It had to be the tenth time she had apologized, and I was more or less certain she switched languages _in the middle_ of the sentence. "I didn't think you two would be… oh, goodness, Nuada, I-" 

"I love and adore you, my very precious twin, and I assure you that everything is fine, so let's stop giving Alistair and Layla lessons on how to apologize in all the major languages of Thedas." She bit her lip and nodded, head down. I tugged her into a one-armed hug. "Thank you very much for the save, Alistair," I told him, focusing on him and Layla now. "I didn't even see the stupid arrow until I turned." It had been flying at my right. Oh, this was a very good lesson. Even if I was capable of _fighting_ , that didn't mean I had my same level of _dodging_. 

"It's not a problem," Alistair waved off. "I'm always willing to panic and cut down arrows." It had been really impressive actually! "I still don't know how that worked." 

"Clearly, we should leave the arrow dodging to you," Layla giggled. It was good to see she had her coloring back. She had been even more frightened and horrified than Elspeth, for some reason. "Regardless, what happened with you two?" 

"We found a baby-killing altar," I answered nonchalantly. She gave me a 'what in flames' look. "It had blood and it's the perfect size. Afterwards, we got ambushed in the house. I don't even know how they figured out we found something." I let go of Elspeth and shrugged. "What happened with you two?" 

"We actually found the shop," Elspeth explained. She leaned a little into my side for a brief second before straightening. "Unfortunately, while we were looking around the wares, Layla sensed excess amounts of blood and we then found a few skeletons in the closet. The shopkeeper then tried to kill us, but Layla manipulated said skeletons to kill him instead. It was all very messy." 

"…There is so much I want to say, and yet my brain is caught on one thing," Alistair deadpanned. He was also facepalming. "Layla?" 

"I… uh… w-well…" Layla fiddled with her hands, eyes darting to the side. "You see; there is a spell in the Spirit class and there _is_ also necromancy…" she began hesitantly. "The whole thing was really a complete accident, though. My original plan had been to fill the room with dust and then make it explode, using a barrier to keep Elspeth and I safe." 

"This is coming from the girl who used to be afraid of fire." Alistair sighed and Layla smiled sheepishly. "Okay, well, the way I see it, there are two choices in front of us. Swim or climb to the Chantry." He pointed to the giant building on a hill. Yeah, that was probably the Chantry. "And I don't know how to swim in armor." 

"So, we must climb then." She sighed a little. "Why must things always be so weird around us?" 

"I'm calling it 'The Blight makes reality go insane' syndrome." 

"I'm calling it 'the Maker really fucking hates us'," I deadpanned. It was telling that not even Layla had a reply to that. "Off we go." 

Surprisingly, it was very easy to get to the Chantry. Even more surprisingly, the door was unlocked when we arrived and we could literally just waltz right in. The inside was pretty 'normal' for a Chantry, especially with the people all grouped up in prayer. Truly, the only unusual thing was the 'Father' leading the sermon. 

"…We are blessed beyond measure; we are chosen by the Holy and Beloved to be Her guardians." Well, this was certainly different than most sermons I'd heard, aside from the self-importance dripping from each word. "This sacred duty is given to us alone; rejoice, my brethren, and prepare your hearts to receive Her." Layla and Elspeth ducked down the sides. Alistair and I walked forward, clanking in our armor. "Lift up your voices and despair not, for She will raise Her faithful servants to glory when Her-" He cut himself off, likely unable to keep ignoring Alistair and me. "Ah, welcome, travelers," he greeted. The listeners made a path for us so we could stand in front of this 'Father'. "Have you enjoyed your time in Haven so far?" 

"Yes, we have," I replied lightly. "We much enjoyed seeing the blood and corpses." 

The Father sighed. "And this is why we do not let outsiders into the village. They have no respect for privacy." 

"To be fair, you didn't exactly hide that bloodstained altar." 

"And you, stranger, do not understand our ways." The Father glared. "You would bring war to Haven, in your ignorance." 

"Then tell us," Alistair replied. He even looked earnest. "You can't go complaining about people's ignorance and then yell at them for it when there's no place to look it up." 

"We don't owe you any explanations for our actions," the Father answered loftily. I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. "We have a sacred duty. Failure to protect her would be a greater sin. All will be forgiven." 

"Right, creepy. Forget I said anything." Alistair sighed. "Is this going to be a prolonged fight against not trained people?" Well… 

Elspeth answered that with an arrow thudding _right_ between the Father's eyes. Before the villagers could even react, they were encased in ice. 

"It seems the girls are proving again that they're deadlier than the guys," I joked. I turned to face them. "You were setting that up, just waiting to be dramatic." 

"You were also planning on us doing something," Elspeth retorted. I couldn't really deny that. "Besides, even if they seem mad, that does not mean we have to kill them." 

"Though, are they only mad to us because we are ignorant?" Layla murmured. She studied the ice sculptures with a little frown. "What they were saying… it made so much sense to them." 

"This isn't the place to debate such things," I pointed out. "We have to find Brother Genitivi, and hope he's not dead yet." I needed to lighten the mood, though. Things were too dark and awkward. "Also, next time we face a group of enemies, can you two let Alistair and I show off?" 

"You should move faster next time." Well, that was a challenge, and one I was eager to accept. "We are going to have to search the whole village, are we not?" Yes, we were, because I doubted these people would hide someone in their Chantry. It would be too messy and obvious. "This is a massive headache." Yes. Yes, it was. 

I was sincerely hoping this would all be worth it. 

* * *

We looked through all the houses. We looked through all the boats and boathouses. We looked through all the storehouses. We even hunted through the graveyard for signs of a recently dug grave. We found absolutely nothing, not even the villagers from before. 

"I am going to be really pissed off if we hit a dead end here," I grumbled. We were back in the Chantry, Layla wanting to check on the health of her ice sculptures, I mean the villagers, and us to think again of something we missed. "The only place we haven't looked is here in the Chantry, right? But it can't be there, right? It's too obvious and open, with people going in and out all the time." If you had a prisoner, you wanted to keep them hidden. 

"Well, maybe we're over-thinking and need to go the obvious route," Alistair pointed out. He was already wandering the side rooms. "Maybe they thought being in the middle of nowhere would be enough." 

"They couldn't be that stupid, though, right?" I glanced at Elspeth, who held up her hands in defeat and went to help Layla. "Alistair, if it's hidden, it'll be on that opposite wall." 

"Hmm? Why?" 

"It would make the room symmetrical, which would be appealing to the eyes of an architect whether they meant it or not." Alistair left the side room and started wandering the walls. "But, seriously, they have to be smarter than to leave a person in the most obvious-" 

"Got a hollow sound." Oh, you have got to be kidding me. "And I think I heard a groan." You have really got to be kidding me. "What were you saying, Nuada?" 

"I am an idiot who over-thought, but in my meager defense, you all played along." I was still peeved, though. I have definitely had better days. 

"Okay, well, time to find-" 

"Alistair, move please." I looked up just in time to see Alistair do exactly what Layla said, and for Layla to throw three bolts of light that exploded the wall, revealing a hidden room filled with books. "I am very done with this village," she deadpanned. I just stared at the rubble, silently reaffirming my desire to _never_ get on Layla's bad side. "I also smell, and sense, blood. I believe it is 'living' blood." Well then. 

"Elspeth, Alistair, guard the front, just in case," I requested, heading over to the hidden room. Layla trotted in behind me, and there, behind one of the bookshelves, we found our missing scholar, sprawled out on the floor with a noticeably broken leg. "Brother Genitivi, I presume?" 

"Who are you?" Brother Genitivi groaned, rolling onto his back to better look at us. He was bruised and bleeding, but that leg looked to be the worst of the injuries. They likely broke it to minimize the chances that a rescue or escape would succeed. "Are you here to finish me off?" 

"No, we're the rescuers in this scenario," I answered, crouching down to help him sit up. "We sent our assassins to deal with another group." 

"Ah, thank you. You don't know how glad I am to see someone who isn't from this village. I…" He groaned in pain as I finally got him up. "Sorry, my everything hurts. Especially my leg. And maybe my foot. I can't feel it." 

"That would be due to festering wounds and broken bones," Layla answered. She knelt down and went to work with healing magic. "Due to your age and how serious the injury is, it will be better for me to set it and ease the pain. Rest is what you need to heal, better than magic." 

"I don't have time to rest now! I'm so close!" His eyes glittered in triumph. "The Urn is just up that mountain and-" 

"You will have no time to live if you do not listen to me." Layla gave him a no-nonsense look. "Though we seek the Urn as well. Arl Eamon is ill, poisoned by Loghain." 

"Politics. Never did anyone any good." He sighed heavily. "The Arl is a noble soul." While Alistair nodded, Elspeth and I exchanged dubious looks. Eamon was a good man, sure, but I wouldn't exactly call him a 'noble soul', especially in light of what we learned of Alistair's childhood. "Yes, surely, the Ashes will cure him." He nodded. "Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the Urn. An old temple hides there, built to protect it." There was a giant ancient temple and no one had noticed? "Eirik, the Father, wears a medallion that can be manipulated to form the key to the temple." Oh, so we were going to be looting bodies again. "Take me to the mountainside, and I will open the door for you." The implication was clear. If we didn't take him, then the only way we were getting in would be to explode a part of an old temple we knew nothing about. We could probably persuade him to show us how to make the key, but we would either be sending him on his own to walk, on a broken leg, back to safety, or leave him in a freezing village where he was a literal sitting target. 

So… "Let's get going, then," I sighed. Layla scowled, but I shrugged. There was no good option here. "I wouldn't want to go mountain climbing in the dark with all this snow." 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Ah, Haven. Such a cozy little town, once you get past the whole 'murderous cult people'. I wonder how much cleaning up they did before it was deemed safe for pilgrims. Or an army. Maric being bad at riding horses comes from The Stolen Throne. (I distinctly remember the line, "I fall off horses. It's what I do." or something similar) 
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Zevran 


	73. Interlude - Turning Crow

Interlude – Turning Crow 

* * *

"Can someone explain to me why we thought it would be a good idea to place dismembered parts of a _demon_ onto an altar again?" Aiden's deadpanned question echoes through the thaig. He almost laughs at it, and _does_ laugh at Cleon's droll 'I told you so' signs. Really, though, the trip into the Deep Roads had been just as boring as expected. Poor lighting, the smell of rotting flesh, puddles of blood all over the place… really, it felt more like a trip to one of the bars. Well, except for the darkspawn. And the ghosts. He didn't appreciate those. 

Shaking his head, he glances over the strange little group he found himself attached to. Attached in… well… most senses of the words. He was fond of the group. Some more than others, he was certain Morrigan was just biding her time, and a brief conversation had done nothing to dissuade him of it, but… well, he couldn't say he disliked it. 

"Zevran, are you injured?" He blinks slowly as Wynne approaches him. While he adored riling her nerves, he had to admit she was perhaps the closest thing to a mother he had in a long, long time. Even with the aggravating patronizing she was sometimes prone to do. "Zevran?" 

"I was simply wondering how best to ask you if I might rest my head on your bosom!" he replies without missing a beat. She rolls her eyes and he laughs. "No, fear not! I am uninjured." The Pride Demon had focused much more on the other members of the party. "Best check Oghren, though! You know how dwarves are." 

"You're a charmer, Zevran." And she leaves, but not without a warm and gentle smile that makes him bounce on his toes, like a little kid who just got praised. And he glances at the others as they continue through the thaig. Ortan thaig, according to Oghren. Strange that the place's name was remembered. Their lovely golem friend kept glaring at the walls like it was remembering something, but not a word it said. 

As they walk, he notices Sten giving him an odd look, and so he skips over. Ever the social one, he is. "Yeeees~?" he drawls, mostly because he knows it annoys Sten and it's just so much fun. 

Sten, as expected, scowls, but he accepts the greeting with a question, "Why are you called a Crow?" 

"That is because I am, or was, an Antivan Crow." A mission he took just to die at last. Yet, here he is. Alive and well. And really, feeling happier than he ever did in the Crows. 

"Crows are scavengers." Ah, that is his protest. "Not killers." 

"Well, I heard at one time, the name Antivan Kestrels was considered. But that doesn't sing through the air or dance off the tongue nearly as well." He shrugs. "Perhaps it is because crows are a symbol of death. Look to our Morrigan! She wears crow feathers to highlight her delight in the destructive ways of magic!" And, once again, getting into an argument with Wynne. That Aiden did not even draw Cleon's attention to it as they moved screamed how immune he had become to the arguing. "Hmm… perhaps I can win that bet Leliana, Oghren, and I made?" 

"Wait until the spiders die." He glances around at the words, and is unnerved when he realizes the spiders are simply retreating. "I will deal with the arguers. This is not the place." 

"Have fun, my friend!" He skips away, morbidly curious as to how Sten planned on stopping the argument. However, he is distracted by a laugh. Aiden's laugh, to be specific. Bright and loud, and in response to something Oghren said. He assumes it was Oghren. Cleon looks dreadfully confused, and annoyed, and poor Aiden tries so hard to sign, but shakes too much. It is a good laugh. It's a better smile. There are many things he would do, to see that again. He's not sure how comfortable he is by the thought. 

"It's almost unfair how handsome he is," he hears Leliana complain. He turns his grin to her and she smiles wryly back. "I'm about ready to give up, though." He tilts his head curiously. "He's so dense. It's hard to keep up an interest in the face of that." He could admit to that frustration. But he'd never been one to give up halfway. "I think he won't get that I'm trying to flirt unless I strip naked." 

"Oh, now that would be a sight!" he jokes. She mimes a punch to his shoulder, and he dramatically ducks. "But, good Leliana, giving up the fight? You're a bard!" 

"Bards know when to retreat." She sighs, shaking her head. "Maybe later, I will try again, when he is not so distracted by the Blight." She glances at him. "That is, if you and he are not opposed to sharing." 

"Mmm, a handsome lad and a beautiful woman? However would that displease me?" She laughs, and he laughs too. "But I don't think I'm having much more luck that you." 

"You _are_ having a bit more, though." He nods, conceding that point. Certainly, Aiden blushed more at his flirtations. "So, let's call this a temporary retreat, Zevran. We can talk again once the Blight is over." 

"A conversation I am looking forward to." A screech nearly makes him jump out of his skin, and he gawks at the giant, and he did mean _giant_ , spider that suddenly dropped down. "Oh, that is… not good." 

"I hate spiders." Yes, he thinks he's gaining a phobia too. "I'll cover. You get to Cleon." 

"On it." And daggers out, he strikes, sliding to his friend's side. 

Might as well use the Crow training for something important, and what thing was more important than protecting those dear to your heart? 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And here's Zevran. Yes, I skipped Caridin's Cross. It's boring. Ortan thaig is… a little more interesting, but not much. So, have it in the interlude here! 
> 
> I noticed while writing that I was having difficulties balancing Aiden-Zevran-Leliana, and felt that this was a disservice to the characters. And to the readers, who were getting what felt like only barely developed threads that would go nowhere. So, this is me stating that while this OT3 will likely be a thing in future sagas, this one will focus primarily on one branch: Aiden and Zevran. I hope you're not too disappointed. (also, tell me if you want/feel like other pairings and/or relationships should have a bit more focus/development. While I make no promises, I will gladly consider it!) 
> 
> Next Chapter – Cleon in the Dead Trenches 


	74. Chapter 64) Terror of the Taint

Chapter 64) Terror of the Taint 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"The dwarves once had an empire too," Hahren Paivel told us da'len. We were sitting for lessons, though more than half of us had already been distracted by the butterflies. 'A sprawling empire deep underground. But, like Arlathan and the Dales, it fell. In their case, though, it fell to darkspawn."_

_"But Hahren, aren't the darkspawn the fault of the shem'len?" Tamlen asked. For once, he was paying attention. Barely. "So, doesn't that mean the shem'len took their home too?"_

_"Well, I suppose that is one way to look at it." And it was easy to tell that was exactly how Tamlen took it. "But it might be more accurate to say everyone took the empire away from the dwarves." Everyone? "Ah, but that is too advance for you. Hush, now, and let me continue the lesson."_

_"Yes, Hahren…"_

* * *

The Dead Trenches. That's what Oghren called it. Said it had a different name, once, but it was known as this since the darkspawn took control of it almost twenty-years ago. My heart keened at the thought. There were so many problems in the world, and Orzammar was infamously isolationist, but… but to have their troubles so ignored… The surface believed all the darkspawn were _dead_ , but here were the dwarves, knowing how stupid of a lie that was. Why did no one help? 

Were we all really so caught up in our own troubles? The dwarves were losing their home piece by piece, like the elves lost the Dales, and yet no one heard them. Not even the elves, who knew the pain of fighting a losing fight. How narrow minded were we? 

Slowly but surely, we left the tunnels and entered the open space that was the 'thaig'. Aiden and I drifted a bit ahead, our attention held by just how _huge_ this place was. This was built by dwarves? But dwarves were tiny. Why would they build something so huge? _Did_ they built it? Or did something else, something that everyone forgot and assigned to the dwarves because there was no better answer? 

My thoughts froze and my head _screamed_ as something suddenly barraged it as we got closer to the cliffs. Whispers upon whispers, squirming into my mind like burrowing insects. It hurt. It hurt so _damn_ much. 

I glanced at Aiden, wondering if he 'heard' it too. He nodded slowly, eyes narrowed in pain like mine, and slowly we crept to the edge, looking down. And I felt like I had been punched in the gut when I realized that I was not looking at that 'lava' stuff. I was looking at a sea of _torches_. Darkspawn. This was the darkspawn army. And for every torch we saw, there had to be ten or even twenty more. 

Creators, preserve and watch over us mad fools. _This_ was what we were fighting. It was even larger than the army we fought at Ostagar… 

The ground trembled under my hand and I jerked up, dragging Aiden with me as I twisted and turned, eyes scanning the shadows for movement. Something big. Whatever was moving was something big, enough to scare even the earth. So, it shouldn't be able to hide, yet it was so hard to think with the song in my head. Breathtakingly beautiful, made my heart _ache_ with longing even as my spirit warmed and… wait. Wait, no, this was…! 

I hit my knee hard, using the pain as an anchor to drag my head out of the song. Glancing at Aiden, I saw he was leaning over the edge, far too far to stay balanced for long. Why wasn't he…? He'd been unconscious. _He didn't know_! 

Deciding desperation was quite needed, I snagged Aiden by the collar, sweeping his feet out from under him so that he hit the ground hard. I saw him gasp, saw him cough almost violently, shaking as the color drained from his face. He blinked slowly, glancing at me in confusion. But before I could say anything, a shadow fell over us, wind blasting us back. 

I glared up at the Archdemon when I saw it flying overhead, landing hard on a bridge. Oh, I remembered it well. This was what we would have to kill. If it's stupid song didn't make us kill ourselves first! 

Purple flames erupted from its mouth, and the ground trembled under me as it roared as swayed. The sea of torches in the crevice below started to move, slow but sure. Marching. They were marching. 

We didn't have a lot of time, did we? 

Movement caught my eye as the archdemon flew off, and I turned towards the others. It didn't surprise me to see them shaking. Even Shale looked unnerved. 

'That was the Archdemon, wasn't it?' Oghren said. Wynne signed for him, since he was still learning our 'language'. Her signs were as shaky as she, so she had to repeat quite a few just so I could read them properly. 'You two heard the song.' Aiden glanced at me, and I nodded. In this case, I was the only one who knew in this group. 'Bleeding nugs, that thing is bigger than I thought.' 

'So, that is the thing we must kill in order to save the world?' Zevran asked. His signs were sharp and clear, but I saw how strained his smile was. And he kept glancing at the sky, awaiting the returning. 'Well, let it never be said life with you lot is boring!' 

'No wonder most Blights last for over a decade,' Leliana sighed. Her soft and worried eyes, and soft signing, made it seem like a murmur, or a sigh. 'Maker, help us.' Yeah, Creators, we could use a little aid too. Mythal, your protection would be quite nice? 

'Over there.' Sten, ever practical, was not looking at the sky, but ahead, to… wait, who were those crazy dwarves fighting the darkspawn? I'd say Wardens, but… well… they didn't 'feel' like Wardens, if that made sense? 'They are being over run,' he signed, one hand already grabbing his greatsword. 'Shall we?' 

Oghren's reply was a war cry and a charge straight into the fight. I swore Wynne groaned, and I definitely knew she sighed, before following to make sure Oghren didn't split his skull. The rest of us exchanged looks and shrugged before chasing after them, jumping into the fight easily. It was so _nice_ to be the ones springing an ambush for a change. 

And between our ambush at the surprisingly competent people fighting, the darkspawn were annihilated before long and that left Aiden and I talking to the dwarf in charge while the others helped and chatted with the other dwarves. Well, Aiden talked. I stood there and looked pretty. 

The dwarf in charge greeted us first. I watched Aiden's hands, noting there was a delay before he signed, 'Hello, Grey Warden. I've not seen one of your kind in the Deep Roads.' The dwarf scowled a little at the signing, though, and said something I thought might be a curse even if Aiden didn't sign the words for me. I waved to catch his attention, and covered my ears when I had it. He seemed to get it after a moment, nodding slightly. He didn't change how spoke, or the speed, but he did wait until Aiden finished signing before continuing, and he didn't seem quite as annoyed. 'Still, not much of a surprise. The coming Blight is obvious to the Legion of the Dead.' The…? 

'My pardon, but what _is_ the Legion of the Dead?' Aiden asked. He kept his smile sheepish and even shy. 'My friend and I are new to being Wardens, and while Oghren…' He pointed to Oghren to make it clear who he was talking about. 'He tried to explain it to me, but I was a little confused by it.' 

'Those of the Warrior Caste know us best, but even they can get things wrong.' The dwarf shrugged. 'The Legion of the Dead is the Legion of the Dead. We abandon our lives to be free of fear and hopeful blindness. Our funerals have already been held. It's just a matter of making our deaths more permanent. Redemption in exchange for the greatest sacrifice. Many come here to help save their families.' Really? 'The only difference between us and Wardens is that we can't sense them like Wardens, and we lack some other skills.' What other skills? Aiden and I barely knew how to sense darkspawn. 'Still, why so small of number?' Uh… 'And there are only two Wardens in this small group?' 

'There are only five of us in all of Fereldan.' Aiden's signs shook slightly. 'The rest died. Now, we're trying to win allies.' 

'Recruiting from the front lines? Now that it s a new tactic.' One look at the dwarf screamed how skeptical, and amused, he was. 'There's not a dwarven reason to look topside, you know. Your nightmare is my everyday.' Yes, it was. 

'…Yes, we do,' I signed. Aiden dropped his hands to verbally translate for me. The dwarf focused on me. 'Yet, still, we ask for aid anyway. We have treaties that we are calling upon. So, we are here to break the deadlock on the throne.' 

'So, you're sweeping the vents for Paragons because what else is going to do that?' Aiden brought his hands up again to sign for me as the dwarf shrugged. 'Well, can't envy you. Our job is to hold a line to buy the assembly time to put an ass on the throne, not fill it up with dead legends.' 

'I don't suppose we could ask you for help?' Aiden asked, signing slowly. He looked thoughtful. 'Your experience would be valued.' 

'Did you not hear me before? Your nightmare is my everyday.' One look at the dwarf screamed how 'done' he was. Old pain, old frustration, so old it just made him tired. 'Dwarves get a break when the darkspawn walk into the light, and it's not like the surface does anything until then.' I could not deny that. I wish I could, but I couldn't. I, who learned the histories of the Dalish almost as well as a storyteller, had barely known of the darkspawn as anything but a thing of the past. 'You want to hunt for legends, be my guest. My men hold this line until the throne is filled, and we don't intend on doing more.' 

'...I understand.' Aiden nodded, and glanced over. The others were returning, ready to move. 'Then we will be on our way.' 

'Sure.' The dwarf might have said more, but Aiden dropped his hands and turned away. I could tell, by the stiffness in his posture, that he was a bit frustrated. Everything about Orzammar had been trying, and failing, to get aid. I had a sneaking suspicion that if we didn't have the treaties, we wouldn't have even been allowed to come in to plead our case. 

Vibrations caught my attention and I turned back, noting the dwarf had clacked his weapon against the ground to catch our attention. Morrigan slinked to my side, hands up to translate for me. 'Be careful,' he warned. 'Drunks make poor allies.' Okay. You know what? I wasn't going to let the jab on Oghren slide without _some_ sort of comment. 

'Better allies than those on the surface,' I signed sharply. My eyes narrowed into a glare. Morrigan stood next to me, translating. 'Surely even a dead dwarf can agree with that.' I was tempted to sign a barb his way, but that wouldn't be anything but petty. Really, there was every reason for him to roll his eyes at helping us. What did the surface ever do for him? For the dwarves? Even _if_ this was just a frustrating series of trying to find help, and not getting it, perhaps it was _exactly_ what he had gone through, time and time again. 

So, instead, I turned away, following the others, Morrigan staying at my side and tentatively taking my hand reassuringly. We had fighting to do. 

* * *

Our basic way of getting through the darkspawn? Shale charged, Oghren and Aiden and Sten followed, Zevran and I took the flanks, Morrigan and Leliana covered, and Wynne made sure we didn't get ourselves killed. It was a surprisingly effective strategy. Now, it didn't work so well on the ogres we encountered, but that was probably because they were armored. For some reason. Those required Zevran and I taking advantage of the _gaping_ holes in the guard. Which also involved lots of flips and precarious landings, partly to show off and partly to avoid being thrown _off_ the bridge into the chasm below. 

I was just glad the archdemon was gone. Where to, no clue, but it was gone, meaning we weren't going to fight it yet. The first stroke of luck we'd had in a long, long time, or so it felt. Though, if we could have ogres stop ambushing us, that would be freaking fantastic. 

'We are just crossing a bridge…' Though Oghren was the one growling, Sten was the one signing for me. I gathered it was because he actually felt the same. 'A freaking bridge. We haven't hit a sodding door yet.' It was easy to see why the Legion simply held the line instead of breaking through. But, of course, we were the reckless idiots who had to get through the thaig because, supposedly, the Anvil of the Void was beyond its borders. 'Break time.' Though that was more because there were darkspawn _approaching_ instead of already being here. I could already see the ogres. 

Of course, a thought occurred to me as my tired mine realized something. 'Has anyone explained _what_ the Anvil of the Void is?' I signed. Sten helpfully translated for me and Oghren turned to face me. 'Our whole reason for coming down here is to find Branka, but I honestly can't remember if we ever got it clarified why this Anvil thing is so important.' 

'…Makes golems.' Oghren nodded to Shale for emphasis. So, Shale was 'born' there? 'I'm sure you noticed, but Orzammar is dying. We're alone, and everyone has their heads stuck in the mud.' He sighed, a deep one that made his whole body move. 'Used to think like them. Too proud of being a warrior to accept casetless help. Then I was the reject and it got me thinking. Well, when I wasn't in the bottle, which wasn't often.' I was honestly surprised he hadn't run out of alcohol on this trip. His flask always seemed full despite his guzzling. 'Golems defended the thaigs during the First Blight. But the Anvil, and Paragon Caridin who created it, vanished abruptly, so the golems slowly faded away, as did our defenses. Now there are only two thaigs left, and we didn't even know about Kal-Sharok somehow surviving until twenty-years ago, give or take.' Wow. 'That's why Branka went to find it.' And that's why we were here. 'Ogres.' Ugh… 

'Why is it that the only darkspawn with horns are these things?' Sten signs, disapproving scowl showing how much it irritated him. 'It is like the qunari among your people.' …Qunari typically had horns? 'Take the left.' 

I nodded and went to work. Fighting darkspawn was becoming second nature, which was probably a good thing. 

Our little strategy meant that the ogres were downed fairly quickly, and bloodily, and we all stopped to stretch and check the path ahead. When I went to help, though, I noticed the dwarf-leader from before was… suddenly behind us. Staring and waiting. He continued to stare as I approached him. 

He also continued to wait until someone else, Leliana, joined me before talking. 'Well, Warden, I will give you and your lot credit for backbone,' he noted. He looked some cross of thoughtful and exasperated. 'You've dug a line through the spawn.' I think we did a little more than 'dug a line', but I smiled in silent acknowledgement of the compliment anyway. 'Not sure if there's much sense in your heads, but you've got the skills to make up for it. Maybe.' Yeah, I doubted any of us were sane. 'Well, good luck. We're moving the line up, so you don't have to worry about darkspawn nipping your backside. Makes an interesting story for scars.' Yeah, no, I liked my ass exactly as it was. 'My name is…' Leliana took my hand and traced out the spelling for me. K-a-r-d-o-l. Kardol. 'You are?' 

'Cleon Mahariel,' I signed. Leliana spoke for me. 'Aiden Tabris is over there.' I pointed to Aiden before pointing to Leliana. 'This is Leliana. No last name she's claiming.' Leliana covered a grin with her hand, a hidden laugh. 'Zevran Arainai is the elf with facial tattoos, Sten is the giant, Morrigan is the girl with dark hair, Wynne is the elderly lady, Shale is the golem.' 

'Yeah, the shapers are going to have a field day figuring out how you lot found a golem of all things.' Kardol seemed to find that amusing. 'And I already know Oghren. Infamous, him. Seems he has his head better on his shoulders than I'd been led to believe.' I was going to assume that was the closest thing to an 'apology' he would ever give for his earlier comment. 'On with you.' 

'One question.' Kardol gave me a look, but I simply smiled as Leliana continued to translate for me. 'How were some of the ogres armored? We fought some. It was confusing.' 

'Crude patchworks of breastplates and shields scavenged up and tied together with rope and thread.' Leliana signed for me, making them quick to show how easily he rattled the information off. 'Lots of vulnerable gaps, but I suppose it's better than nothing.' Kardol shrugged. 'Thank the ancestors that darkspawn and ghouls never seem to take anyone from the smithing caste.' 

'Yeah, but a metal fist hurts a lot.' 

'Well, you're not exactly supposed to get hit. Be a proper elf and dodge.' I grinned, hiding it behind my hand, and he grinned back. 'Well, luck to you. Maybe you lot can pull off a miracle. If you do, we'll talk later.' Oh? 'I don't give a damn about the surface. But, well…' He shrugged. 'It's easier to give a damn about someone who knows the fight.' Oh… 'On with you. There's still a lot to go.' 

Yeah, on indeed. Yay. I hated the Deep Roads so damn much. I'd be glad to never come here again. 

* * *

There were a lot of graves here. And darkspawn. Lots and lots of darkspawn. It was actually unnerving when we suddenly found ourselves in an area _without_ darkspawn. Just a worn hall with eerie red light filtering through from _somewhere_. 

Eyes narrowing, I took the chance opportunity for a break and narrowed my eyes, focused on trying to find where that glimmer of red was coming from. While the others tried to decide the path forward, I ran my hands along the walls, feeling for the cracks that let the light in. Finally, though, in the middle of a rock formation, I thought I found the source. A red crystal, pulsing with a twisted red light. It felt like the Taint, but how could Taint be crystallized? I almost grabbed the crystal, but my instincts _shrieked_. No, don't touch. Run away. Get away from it and never speak of it again. This red… whatever it is… should not be here. It was taint and corruption beyond that which is acceptable. That was what my instincts screamed. 

So, I stumbled back, glancing at the others to see if they noticed the red light that shimmered so invitingly, like flytrap ready to devour. But, to my surprise, they weren't even paying attention to me. They were all frozen. Eyes wide, graying skin. Even _Sten_ looked unnerved. But I couldn't see what was the problem. They weren't looking at the red light, but something down the path, which seemed fairly normal, all things considered. 

I waved, to catch someone's attention. Finally, Wynne turned to me. Her hands shook a little as she signed, 'first day, they come, and catch everyone.' Um… 'Someone just whispered that.' Okay… why…? 

Hesitantly, they all crept forward. Postures tense and twitchy at, I assumed, every noise. I just made sure they didn't trip on anything, my own unease fading as we left the red light again. But then, they all froze again, so quickly that I almost ran into Zevran. I could only wait as one of them recovered enough to sign. 

This time, it was Sten. 'Second day, they beat us, and eat some for meat.' Oh, lovely, people being eaten alive! Were we going to find skeletons scattered about? That would really set the mood. 

Moving forward. We were out of the hallways now, into the caves of smooth and irregular stone. There, they paused again and I tried to decide if I was thankful or frustrated I could not hear what unnerved them so. 

Morrigan caught my attention and signed, 'third day, the men are all gnawed on again.' If the 'they' were darkspawn, then did that mean they eat? Why? And why just the men? Were they just meatier or something? 

And we kept moving, with them becoming twitchier and twitcher and me become more and more exasperated. And I really did run into someone the next time they froze. And it was painful, because the 'someone' had been Shale, and I could over give it a dirty look when it gave me an annoyed one. 

Zevran signed for me, 'Fourth day, we wait and fear our fate.' We? Fate? Wait for getting eaten again? Did they get eaten in pieces? First the arms, then the legs? But how did they prevent blood? Spider webs? 

And so we continued, down through the caves. I shifted to avoid crashing into someone when they sudden froze. And, to be fair, I didn't 'crash'. I tripped over Oghren. Okay, this was ridiculous. 

Leliana signed this time. 'Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn.' Why a girl? Did darkspawn even know how to differentiate physical differences between sexes? Or was it just because they gnawed on the men too much on the third day? 

And we continued on and on. It felt longer than it probably was, due to how slow everyone was moving. They didn't want to meet the speaker. I did. I wanted to prod them for too morbid poems and for freaking everyone out. 

They froze. This time I didn't trip or crash into anyone. Leliana had her hands up anyway to check her bow, so she went ahead and signed, 'Six day, her screams we hear in our dreams.' Screams? Did they torture her to death or something? Sliced off the limbs one by one to eat? 

On we went. How long was this tunnel? How large was this thaig? Why were there no darkspawn? Had the Archdemon taken then all? 

Morrigan signed the next lines. 'Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew.' Spew? …Okay, I was thinking that they didn't torture the 'girl' to death, but did something… very different. Now, there was the vomit imagery, but I was thinking it was much worse. 

The scenery finally changed. There were strange fleshy blobs all over the place. What was this? I tilted my head and studied them as I waited for the others. Smelled horrible, and the blob pulses like it had a heart. 

This time, it was Aiden. 'Eighth day, we hated as she is violated.' Oh, great. I was right. Darkspawn not only killed and ate people, but they raped women. Clearly, they had distinct similarities with every _other_ culture in the world. Why? Well, I suppose that question could go for 'everyone', but it was dominance. But darkspawn were mindless, so was that really the reason? 

More fleshy blobs, enough to make the ground squish and cave under my feet. Wet and moist. Like we were walking into the mouth of some great beast, who was deciding if we were worth eating or not. 

Zevran this time. 'Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin.' What. What. That made no sense! By the phrasing, and context, I was going to assume that cannibalism wasn't a 'normal' thing for the 'she'. And the grins part… well, maybe she broke and the grin is psychotic, broken, and mad. Or something. Why was I analyzing the poem so much? I guessed it was because I couldn't actually _hear_ it. 

More walking. They kept twitching. I scanned the area, watching the shadows for movement. But there was nothing. Just us. And whoever was reciting the poem, of course. Where _were_ they? Surely, they couldn't be far, logically. They could hear them. So… Where? 

Sten signed the next lines. 'Now she does feast, as she's become the beast.' Become the… what? The beast? This made no sense. Oh, unless maybe 'beast' meant 'killer' and 'gone mad'. Rabid. 'Now you lay in wait, for their screams will haunt you in your dreams.' So, from 'we' to 'you'. What a way to end a poem. A very… strange and creepy poem. It… was just a poem, right? Right? 

We entered another hallway, still no darkspawn in sight. Everyone's eyes darted around, looking up for whatever threat might come, but I felt some small bits of shaking and brought my eyes down to the ground. And I found a dwarf, digging at the fleshy sacks. I waved to the others, pointing to her, and could only tilt my head at their wide-eyed stares. 

Aiden was the one who signed, 'that is the person who was whispering the poem.' Oh, so this was our poetess. A strange… blotchy… feverish… drawf woman who _burned_ with the Taint. Um… oh dear. How was she alive? 

I wasn't sure, and my instincts screamed, so I lingered back even as Aiden approached her. Wynne was at his side, healing magic at the ready. Still, I was certain everyone winced as the woman stood up slowly, twitchy yet stiff. She moved like a puppet with half-broken strings. I saw Sten grab his greatsword, and Zevran his knives. Leliana stopped them both, and I knew it was because she still hoped for a way to save the woman. But I doubted. I could tell Oghren and Shale did too, even as they lingered back with me. 

'What is this?' the woman asked, not quite looking at Aiden even though it was obvious she was addressing him. Morrigan signed for me, pressing into my side as the woman's head all but lolled on her neck. 'Human? Elf? Bland and unlikely.' I caught no emotion from the woman. She really was like a puppet. Twitch, twitch, and a mouth that moved, but eyes that were already dead. Was… this going to be my fate, if I hadn't gone through the Joining? Or would I have simply died, been spared this? "Feeding time only brings kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are only a dream of strange faces and open doors.' 

'I promise you, we are no dream,' Aiden whispered. He glanced at me, but I caught the silent question and pointed to Morrigan. He nodded and did not bring his hands up to sign. He worried the movement might freak her out. I couldn't blame him. 'We would like to help you, if we can.' Could we, though? If this was Taint, and if this was like what I had gone through… no, it was even worse. 

'No, you can't.' Her hands dropped to her sides. I kept my eyes on her face, watching her. The blotches on her face looked like bruises. Her lips were cracked. 'There is nothing left.' Her eyes were dead, and yet I could see something flicker in there, the more I looked. Fear. Pain. Guilt. More pain. Desolation. 'There is body and there is hope, and both are turning.' Trauma. That was the word I wanted. There was trauma in her eyes, deep enough to crack her spirit. 'They come. They… they vomit, they violate, and they chant.' It was difficult to say, looking at her eyes, whether her body or spirit was more broken. Perhaps it didn't matter. 'They scream… oh, how they scream… and then the change comes." Screaming… I remembered screams when I was Tainted. Oh, Tamlen… how glad I was you had died when you did. The thought of you suffering like this… made my heart ache. 'All I could do was wish…' Morrigan signed out 'name' and I knew it would be something I would get another time. 'I wished to upon her so that I would be spared.' Ah… it was hard to fault her for something like that. 

'The poor woman…' I glanced over and saw Leliana signing the words multiple times. She whispered other things, and I thought it might have been a prayer, but I saw the dark pain in her eyes. I wouldn't ask. I could take a guess at just _why_ Leliana was so sympathetic, and if I was right, it was _most definitely not my business_. 

I caught tension in everyone's posture and glanced down Morrigan. Her signs were sharp and fast, 'she just mentioned Branka.' What. 'She also mentioned being her lover.' I unconsciously glanced at Oghren at that. He looked… only half-surprised. Still, awkward. 'Oh, she is…' I glanced at the woman and started when I saw signs of anger. Anguish. Rage. Her body still moved like a puppet, but for this brief second, her _mind was not yet dead_. 

'I will not speak of her.' Morrigan made the signs crisp. No fluctuations in tone, I guessed, but the effect was still there. This was clear. She wasn't mumbling. 'Of what she dead, of what we have become. I will not turn!' Her head finally jerked up. She didn't focus on Aiden, but Oghren. And I saw Oghren pale. 'I will not become what I have seen!' 

Aaand she ran. She ran really fast, all things considered. And we could only stare for a brief moment. Um… 

'That… was a distant cousin of mine,' Oghren murmured. He waited until he saw Morrigan sign for me before continuing. 'Kind if stubborn. What in sodding ancestors…?' 

'Forget that!' Aiden signed, movements sharp. 'After her! She needs help!' Well, I couldn't deny that, buut… 

Shaking my head, I followed after the others. Zevran and I quickly outpaced the others, and I followed the tracks in the dirt to find the dwarf woman's movements. It really wouldn't do to get lost in the middle of a thaig. 

As we ran, though, Zevran suddenly started signing. 'She became obsessed. That is the word, but it is not strong enough. Blessed Stone, there was nothing left to her but the Anvil.' Was that her? Okay, clearly, she was close enough for the others to hear. So, why couldn't I see her? 

Slid around a corner, kept on running. I glanced back to make sure the others were following. Thankfully, they were. Though, it looked like Shale was carrying Oghren so he could keep up. 

'We tried to escape, but they found us. They took us all, turned us…' Okay, the 'they' _had_ to be darkspawn. But why? Okay, next chance I got, I was going to look into darkspawn things. Because surely, most of this would make _far_ more sense if we knew anything about what was going on. If Duncan had lived long enough to tell us. Creators, Alistair should be here. Surely, in the six extra months he had on us, he learned some things! 

Slipped on some loose gravel. Righted myself quickly and barely lost a step on Zevran. I signed back to the others to tell them to be careful. Unsheathed my daggers, just in case we ran into something that intended to bite back. I would not be unarmed in this place. 

'The men, they kill… they're merciful. But they women, they want. They want to touch, to mold, to change until you are filled with them.' Okay, was this how darkspawn reproduced or something? Steal those with wombs and rape them until their minds broke or something? It's like every cliché horror story you told about enemies to twist them into monsters in your head to make them easier to kill. 

Zevran started flagging. I wondered why, but realized it quickly. He had been tense before, overly vigilant. That took energy. I knew that all too well. I _had_ to be, to keep track of everything now that I could no longer hear. But I was used to it, or getting used to it. He wasn't. His stamina had run out, but mine kept going. 

'They took her. They made her eat the others, our friends. She tore off her husband's face and drank his blood.' Okay, but why? Why do that? Why make her do that? Was it so that she had enough food to carry children to term? But it seemed excessive? Also, where would she have gotten the strength? It took a lot of power to rip skin. Sure, someone like Shale might be able to, but Shale was a golem, not a dwarf lady. 

Took a slight lead, just enough so that Zevran didn't have to focus so much, but I could still see his hands if I glanced over. Burst through some gates, passed through some ghosts. Never stopping. I just kept following the tracks. Where was she going? Where were we? There was no answer. Not until we found her. 

'And while she ate, she grew. She swelled and turned gray and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. Then she made more of them.' …Wait. What…? 'Brood mother…' What. WHAT. Hold up, what did that even-? 

I stepped around the corner and froze, Zevran crashing into my back. I could… only describe the blob of flesh as a 'monster'. A round head, with no neck. Far too many breasts. Short, fat arms. A huge girth that anchored it to one place. Tentacles bursting from the bottom, swaying in random movements. No legs. 

This… was once a dwarf? This… was once a dwarven woman. This was someone Oghren once knew. And here we were, in an area that stank of slime and rotting meat, with no place to hide, and tentacles erupting from the ground. Was… was this _whole area her?!_

It didn't matter. Because _it was ready for a fight!_

Zevran and I rolled out of the way as tentacles tried to snare us by the ankles. Unfortunately, though, we ended up separated, and the tentacles just made it so that we continued to _be_ separated. I grit my teeth as I realized it was luring us somewhere. I could see the others be drawn in too. I felt magic wash over me, cast by Wynne. I saw Leliana's arrows fly. I saw ice and lightning cascade the area, trying to take out the tentacles, trying to make a path. I saw flashes of metal as Oghren, Sten, and Aiden tried to cut through. Felt the vibrations of Shale's punches. But it didn't matter. It was like there was no end to them, and your only choice, really, was to dodge because the second you focused on something else, one would whack you into the walls. 

I felt my blood run cold when I saw Aiden hit the _freaking ceiling_. I thought I saw Shale catch him. But it was barraged on all sides, and I saw Shale curl on the ground. Invincible, likely, but even stone could be chipped away. One need only look to the mountains ground down by the wind to know that… where were the others? I couldn't see them. And ugh, what was the stench barraging my nose? Sweat, urine, feces, blood, rot… it was enough to make my stomach roll and churn, and I actually stumbled as I tried to keep from throwing up. Why was it so strong? It hadn't been before? What was I… near…? 

Fen'harel, you loved your tricks. You really did. 

Not even a heartbeat after I realized just _why_ the smell was so strong, a tentacle slipped behind me, wrapped me up and held me high up in the air. Crushing and shaking… I wasn't sure if it was trying to rattle me like a child's toy or just squeeze me until I burst. Maybe both? How rude for it to play with its food. And it did intend to eat me. I could see that in the sick light of its eyes. The psychotic grin filled with sharp-sharp teeth, stained red and black. The wolf grinning at the rabbit. 

Except… I wasn't a rabbit. And I wasn't so rattled yet that I couldn't keep my wits. Well, at least a little of my wits. The ones that screamed one of Zaphikel's key lessons, 'Never drop your weapon in a fight', and the ones that reminded me that, at this angle and this range… well, switch the grip, slice the tentacle, and hope and pray I'm not thrown into the ceiling like Aiden. 

An explosion of light dazzled the area, and I suddenly felt… incredible. Stronger, better… and the broodmother seemed disoriented, weakened. 

I sliced the tentacle, dropping down right onto its shoulder. From there, it was a simple matter to stab its head, twisting until the neck snapped. I felt it shudder and writhe under me, trying to resist, but it was pointless. Too small of arms, and no tentacles near meant I had free reign. 

It died with a gasp. I wondered if it said anything. But maybe not. Maybe, until the end, it didn't realize what had been done to it. I wondered why, but thought of the song of the archdemon. If… yeah, that had to be it. Everything seemed fine, when that song was in your head. 

Carefully, I jumped down, wincing as the landing jolt sparked the fade of the battle-fever. My torso ached, and I wouldn't be surprised if my ribs were bruised. But a quick check of the area proved that everyone was alive, so yay? 

'Beautiful workmanship.' It took me a bit to register the signs. It took me even longer to realize it was Zevran signing to me. He had a bleeding gash on his head, but a grin on his face. Despite the fact that Oghren had to help him limp over. 'Everyone all good, despite Aiden saying hello most rudely to the ceiling,' he continued. I bit back a grin. 'Shale came to the rescue with a powerful aura that washed through the area.' Oh, so that's what happened. 'We are teasing, of course, about it defending a squishy.' Right, Shale _had_ done that. 'Shale claims it was an accident as it was preparing to use whatever aura trick that was.' Whatever. It still happened. 'Wynne is healing us up all nicely, though, and Leliana is recovering her arrows, so if you can come over and reassure Morrigan you have not had your stomach squished up to your head before we all pull her hair?' Amusing as the mental image was, it was probably a good idea to get checked and… 

Movement caught my eye, and I jerked my head up, terrified that we would have to deal with darkspawn _now_ of all times. But Oghren caught my arm before I could bring up my daggers, and it took me a couple of blinks to realize why. The movement was caused by that dwarf woman appearing, high overhead. How had she gotten up there? Had she climbed after turning the corner, knowing the broodmother was here? Why had she run here, though? Had it been… had it been to kill it? Could she be that coherent? 

Impossible to say. Especially with her swaying way up there, mouth moving to speak. 

'That's where they come from.' Zevran helpfully held his hands up so that I could see his signs while also looking at her. 'That's why they hate us. That's why they need us.' I glanced at the corpse. If this were a tale, she would have returned to her original form in death. But no, she was still that monster. This was no simple tale. 'That's why they take us, why they feed us.' Because it was still, technically, a dwarf. And dwarves required food to survive. So did it… she… Oh, Creators… 'But the true abomination is not that it occurred.' Her gaze was on Oghren again. Did she know it was him? 'It was that it was _allowed_.' Zevran signed it twice to emphasize the word. 'Branka… my love…' 

Branka… let this happen? Branka, the person we were suppose to be finding, _let_ this happen? Yeah, okay, I might be cutting her damn head off as soon as we got what we needed from her. Creators damn her spirit to the coldest part of the realms! 

'The stone has punished me, dream-friends.' Her gaze turned to all of us, and I thought she smiled. It was broken. Just like her. 'I am dying of something worse than death… I am dying from betrayal.' Creators… 

She said something else, but my focus left Zevran's hands. Her legs were tense, braced, though the rest of her wasn't. And she was close to the edge. 

I lunged forward automatically, even though I knew, at that height, I doubted I would be able to do anything. And, perhaps this was the better fate for her, but it was still an automatic response to _try_ and intervene… 

But, as I thought, there was nothing to be done as she jumped and fell. She hit the ground with a splat. Blood erupted and splattered through the area, her bones shattered and pierced through her like a bizarre porcupine. I refused to look at her head. Or what had been her head. I _refused_. I liked having the contents of my stomach exactly where they were. 

Of course, the sour smell of bile told me at least one of the others had lost that battle. 

A hand fell on my shoulder and I looked up to see it was Sten. He looked almost sympathetic as he signed, 'I will gather what I can.' He would? 'Layla said burials were good for morale.' …I was sure Oghren would appreciate it. 'I think it folly still, but we can take the time to make you all feel better.' 

'Ma serranas,' I signed back, ducking my head and turning away, leaving Sten to the grisly duty. Of course, turning had only brought the broodmother corpse in my full view. There was… I would ask Oghren about how dwarves buried their dead. If we could do it for her, we would. 

Creators, I know she is of the Stone, but if you could help her rest, won't you please? She… deserve it. Everyone in that expedition… deserved it. 

Except maybe Branka. Oh, I was getting answers from her if it was the last thing I did! 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I hated this section. I hated this section so much. I mean; I loved it, but I hated it, because it was creepy as all hell my first playthrough. As my friends can attest, I screamed the first time I saw the broodmother. Like, screamed and threw the controller going "nope! Nope, I'm done!". It was great. Anyway, technically speaking, Armored Ogres only appear in Awakening, but the codex entry for it is written by Kardol, so I threw them in. Shale's 'aura' here is Stone Aura. Want to say it's the 'fourth' line of her talents? It's a very supportive talent, giving boosts to party strength, defense, health/mana/stamina regeneration, etc, etc.   
>  I don't think I ever had her name stated here, but this is Hespith, The World of Thedas Volume 2 revealed her to be a distant cousin of Oghren. The toolset confirms she commits suicide, but it is not on-screen like it is here.   
>  I couldn't find much on Oghren's feelings on casteless, so I'm going with 'he used to hate them, and then he was the reject' sort of thing. 
> 
> Next Chapter – the temple with Layla 


	75. Chapter 65) Temple of Sacred Ashes

Chapter 65) Temple of Sacred Ashes 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_For a tower with only a handful of floors, it was ridiculously easy to get lost. I should not still be getting lost! I had been here for a year already!_

_Sighing, I glanced around, peeking up at the other mages. I thought about asking for help, but I could not. They were too scary, too unapproachable. The words dried on my tongue._

_So, I wandered, trying to find my destination but failing miserably. Tears pricked my eyes. This was… so unbelievably frustrating…_

_I stepped inside a room, to calm down, and I blinked slowly as I realized there was no one here. It was quiet, peaceful, a statue of Andraste smiling down on me. What was this place…?_

_"There you are, Layla." Squeaking, I whirled, and ducked my head when I saw Irving in the doorway. "Did you get lost?" he asked gently. I nodded, ashamed. I had supposed to be at his room for lessons eons ago. "Quite all right, my dear. I still forget where some things are. Wynne teases me mercilessly for it." I tentatively glanced up and he held out his hand. "Come now, though. As peaceful as it is, the Chantry doesn't really like us holding lessons in the Chapel." So, this was the Chapel…_

_As I took his hand, I promised myself that I would visit here again. It was calming and peaceful, like the Maker was truly protecting us. I loved that feeling…_

* * *

The Temple was surprisingly… well, perhaps pristine was not the right word, though it was more intact than I expected. There were holes in the wall, snow had fallen in. There were some paths blocked completely by rubble, and others by ice. Some of the statues were shattered; some of the wall carvings were worn away. 

But it was huge. It was absolutely huge. I could not believe that a building so large had remained so hidden. 

"Works of wonder like this truly is enough to make one believe in miracles," I breathed, eyes wide as I tried to take in everything. "I cannot think of how this place was built, even with magic." 

"Minrathous giant structures that surpass this, so I imagine it is quite possible," Nuada replied absently. I scowled at his back so easily ruined my mood. "Its all dark, but breathtakingly beautiful. You can see the keen architectural genius that shaped it." 

"You have been to Minrathous?" 

"Yes, I have. It was an accident. There was a storm, and we kind of got attacked by pirates." What. "Then some Tevinters helped us out, but brought us in for being suspicious. Father fast-talked them out of imprisoning us. I think he used Elspeth and me for it. After all, what pirate keeps eight-year-olds on a ship?" He paused, looking a little thoughtful. "Wait, was I eight? Maybe I was seven, or perhaps nine? I can't remember. We were still stationed in Antiva at the time, though. I remember that much." 

"Where have you not been, Nuada?" 

"Well, I've not been to Seheron and I haven't been to the Anderfels either. There are places in the Free Marches I haven't been either. We just went to Kirkwall, Starkhaven, and Tantervale, with a very brief stop in Ostwick because of a storm." He grinned at me over his shoulder. "I haven't been to Estwatch either." 

"What is that?" 

"It is the home, essentially, of the Felicisima Armada." His grin grew wider as I frowned in confusion. "They're pirates." 

"…Oh." 

"I have also not gone to Rivain, sadly. Father had wanted us to go so that we could experience the culture there, but we had to quickly go to the Free Marches for some diplomatic reason." 

"Wait, where _is_ Rivain again?" I could not picture this. I had not looked at maps! 

"It's a peninsula that borders only Antiva, to the north." He held out his hand and I took it without really thinking about it. A second later, though, I realized it was because the footing was slippery. This hallway was really long. "Antiva sits also in the north, bordering the Free Marches and the Imperium. Seheron is an island to the north of the Imperium." So, that logically would put… the Imperium to the west of Antiva? "Nevarra is south of the Imperium, west of the Free Marches." I was right then. "It borders Orlais. The Anderfels are to the northwest. I think its borders are Orlais and the Imperium." 

"Then Fereldan is in the South." I remembered that. I remembered sailing 'south' from Kirkwall. 

"Yeah, we are south of the Free Marches, separated from them by the Waking Sea. Our only neighbor, surface wise, is Orlais." He helped me over some rubble. He hadn't let go of my hand. "It plays a part as to why Fereldan is traditionally isolationist." 

"I see." I smiled at him. "Thank you for the impromptu lesson." 

"Aldous would be pleased to hear I can rattle all that off." His warm smile was a bit sad. "He _really_ had to work to get that information in my head. It was much less interesting than the prostitutes outside." 

"Nuada!" He laughed, quietly. "You are impossible." Though, it was a bit of a reminder. He had… um… physical experience? Oh, Anders would laugh at how I shied away from the term. But, he did. He flirted, and was handsome, so… would he be all right, with someone like me? I had no such experience, and had only fallen in love once before. Would he be…? O-of course, that was assuming I was even attractive to him, and I probably was not. I was not… um… ugh, brain, I hate you. This was so not the time. 

I could not help the little sigh that escaped me, and I prayed Nuada did not notice. He probably did, but things would be much easier if he did not. So, I simply sighed again, and glanced around at the ruins, wondering when we would find the end to the empty hallway. Were Alistair and Elspeth stuck in as boring of a hallway? We had split up to better search the area, since Brother Genetivi had no knowledge of _where_ inside the Temple the Sacred Ashes would be, not that he was of any real help because he had started studying the carvings by the entrance shortly after helping us inside, but- 

My breath caught as we finally reached the end of the hallway, and I saw it opened into a giant, _giant_ library. More importantly, it was a giant library that had _intact books_. 

"Maker…!" I gasped, bolting for one of the shelves. I slipped on some ice and nearly crashed into it, but that did not matter as I pulled one of the books out. It was dusty, and a little moldy, but you could still read the words clearly. Even better, it was written in a slightly older version of King's Tongue, meaning it was still perfectly readable and I would not have to cross reference a language book. 

Laughter caught my ear, and I turned to sulk at Nuada as he continued to laugh at me. "Alas, woe is me!" he declared dramatically, lifting his head for good measure. It emphasized how long his hair was. "Abandoned for musty books!" 

"I am sorry you hold less interesting to me than books lost to time, never seen by those outside of the inhabitants of Haven in decades." For some reason, that just made him laugh harder. "Help me look through. We might find a clue to where the Ashes are." 

"You just want to go history diving." Still, he came to my side and pulled out another book. "Oh, now this is interesting." He showed me the cover. I could not read it. "This is Tevene." 

"Then you read and summarize it." 

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am." I gave him a dirty look, and he snickered. "If we can't find something quickly, we'll need to move forward and come back later. I can't imagine we will stay hidden for long." Yes, it stood to reason that there were more Haven inhabitants here in the temple, guarding it. 

"I understand." I had better read quickly, then. This was too good to pass up! 

* * *

So, sadly, we could not find hints to the Ashes whereabouts in the library, though there was a _lot_ of information hiding within. Moving forward, though, we did discover one thing. The temple was actually built _into_ the mountain, leading rather neatly into caverns. Yes, this had to have been carved with magic. The question was… had it been co-opted to safeguard the Ashes, or had it been made specifically for them? I doubted we would ever find the answer. 

"I hope Elspeth and Alistair are all right," I murmured as we hiked through the caves. I thought of the other group, in Orzammar. Were they in caves right now? Had they gone into the Deep Roads? I hoped they were okay… "I was expecting to meet up with them by now." Surely, the right path did not lead to a wildly different spot, right? Though, when we had split up, we had not realized this went into the mountains. Did Haven have any secret paths? Was that how the village had hidden so long? Did they escape into the Frostbacks by them? There was no time to check, and I doubted it would be us who did. 

"I'm sure we will meet up with them before long," Nuada reassured. He helped me over some rocks. "Hopefully the delay is due to them having a very intense kissing session, though somehow, I doubt it." I burst into giggles, doubting it too even if it was a fun mental image, and he grinned. "There's a smile." Huh? "You were sighing over something earlier, before the books." …He did notice. Of course he did. "What's wrong?" Oh, nothing was wrong! I am just in love with you, and it is driving me up the wall! 

"It is nothing." He gave me a skeptical look. "It… is a personal problem?" It was a very personal problem and he was currently the _last_ person I wanted to know about it! 

Nuada tilted his head to the side, before snapping his fingers. "Ah, do you need to deal with moonday bleedings?" …That was his first thought? That was truly his first thought? "I can go up ahead if-" 

"That is not it at all." I... would think I would just _tell_ him if that were the case. With everything we had gone through, being embarrassed about something natural seemed a bit silly to me. "I am fine on that front." Truthfully, despite it definitely being longer than a month, I had not had one since before leaving the Tower. Perhaps the stress was throwing off my cycles? "It is something else, that I… well…" 

"Very well." He smiled gently, perfectly accepting that I didn't want to talk about it. "But don't turn into Elspeth and me, okay? Be kinder to your head." 

"Very well." I could only sigh. This crush business was much more troublesome now than it was at the Tower. It truly was. Though, had he figured it out? He _was_ observant? He was also maddening. Ugh… this was not the time. I hated my brain. Why did it latch on to stupid things? Was it just tired from everything and enjoying the silliness? This _was_ the first time the two of us had been alone-alone since I realized my feelings. 

How did people deal with things like this every single day? It was tiring! …What was that? There was a sound. There was a quiet, almost clacking like sound, like claws on stone. Was there a creature here? What sort of creature lived inside the mountains? 

"Layla!" Squeaking, I felt myself slide back as Nuada pushed me out of the way. It took me two seconds of staring to realize that yes, there was a creature here, and it had scales. It was large, and it had scales. This was… "Well, I see the dragons are enjoying the temple!" Yes, I suppose so, but can we worry a little more of the fact that it was crushing your armor, _and arm_ , Nuada?! "Layla, if I lift it-" 

"Yes." Figuring out what he needed, I drew my rapier. I still was not exactly comfortable with using it, but this should be a simple task. Well, it was in theory, at least. "I have heard dragon scales are among the best armor." 

"I know a smith in Denerim who would _kill_ to forge something from them." But there was a critical weakness. The scales did not cover the belly, and it was soft. Aiden had mentioned that, when telling us of the dragon they fought. "Well, here we go." Nuada twisted, pinning the dragon between his uninjured arm and chest to keep it from ripping out a piece of his arm as he exposed its stomach. 

Then, as quickly as I could manage, I stabbed it, the tip going in easily, and slashed up. Blood spurted and gushed, splattering us both. Thankfully, though, it died quickly. I would have hated to see it suffer so much. We were the interlopers here, after all. But we could not die yet. So… 

"Let me see your arm," I ordered, sheathing my rapier and reaching out. "I have to check for bone and infection." 

"Yeah, I figured," he sighed. He pried the dead dragon off of his arm, and I winced at the blood streaming down his arm. "I can still feel it so I don't think he cracked anything but skin and my armor." Yet he smiled despite the pain as he finally gave me his arm and let me work on it. "What are the odds that we run right into a dragon? Of course, considering how the others fought one in those Brecilian Forest Ruins, I suppose it is only fair that we did the same." I suppose, but… 

"Actually…" I glanced at the corpse, noting the size distinct lack of wings. "I think that is a drake." Technically speaking, 'dragon' meant 'immature female', though all the variations were called dragons colloquially. "They are commonly found guarding a female dragon's lair." Female dragons matured into 'mature dragons' and then into 'high dragons'. It was the High Dragon that most people thought of when they imagined the word 'dragon'. 

"I am so pleased to hear the correct term for the thing that tried to rip my arm off." He sighed, and I took the opportunity to check over his health in general. "I am going to have to get _another_ set of armor." 

"Be glad it was your armor and not your arm. It will be fine with a few cleanings and bandagings." I sighed, though, as my magic noted something off with one of his injuries. "Armor off, shirt off. I want to visually check that stomach wound of yours." 

"Is it _still_ causing troubles?" Nuada, however, grinned as he did as I asked. "Well, far be it for me to deny a beauty's request to strip down." 

"Keep your pants on, please." He simply laughed, setting the armor down and placing his shirt on the pieces. My eyes automatically fell on the scar on his right, perfectly in line with the scar that ran over his right eye. Uldred had really… almost killed him. I felt cold at the thought. "Anything I need to do?" My eyes flicked up to his shoulder, where I noticed… ink? It was like the markings on Zevran's face, ink embedded into the skin. When did he get that? I was not sure how to ask about it. "Layla?" I focused on his face, and my attention was caught by the faint scars on his cheek. I knew he had gotten one from the Tower; he had already _had_ the palest one when we met. How had he gotten it? I think Commander Duncan explained it, once, but… "Have I captivated you?" 

"You wish." He laughed, and I felt myself relax slightly. "Sit still." Very carefully, I prodded the area around his stomach wound. It was the first time I had seen it since Lothering, and I unconsciously traced it, noting it was _exactly_ like the scar I had expected to see on my own stomach. I noticed the star-like scars dotting his chest. They looked like arrows, and Alistair had told me, once, they were where _he_ expected scars on his own chest. "…Nuada?" 

"Yes?" His voice shook a little. I glanced up worriedly, but he had his eyes closed, and his face was stoic. I couldn't read anything, and that made my heart ache. 

"Will you tell me how you got these injuries?" He tensed under my fingertips. "You don't have to. I just…" I wanted to know. 

"…After you and Alistair fell unconscious, Flemeth came to save us." He spoke slowly and carefully, eyes still shut. I was more surprised he was actually answering. "You know that part, right?" 

"Yes, Morrigan told me." 

"I… made a bargain with Flemeth. You and Alistair were in a grave state, so I made one." He opened his eyes, and looked right at me. "The price was blood." It was…? "She used some sort of magic, I know not what, and it gave me your injuries." Did he just say…?! "I had less energies, and I had lost less blood. What would have killed you two would not kill me." 

"…Stupid…" I dropped my head, biting back tears. That was what happened. "You just did that… and you were not going to tell us?" 

"Well, that had been the plan." His voice was soft. "It wasn't that big of a deal. It was an easy decision." 

"This… should have been _my_ injury, though." I pressed my hand against the wound, noticing the scabbing. It felt even. What was causing the 'strangeness' my magic sensed? "This should have been my pain. You hide so much pain already, and you were bearing mine too. You were bearing Alistair's." 

"As I said, it was an easy decision." Why did I have to fall in love with someone who didn't care about himself at all? "Are you mad?" 

"I'm mad that you hate yourself so much." 

"I do not…" He did not finish the sentence. That seemed rather telling to me. "You mentioned the injury was odd?" That he changed the subject also proved telling. 

But it also meant that I would not get anything out of him, so I played along. "Yes, I am trying to figure it out." Sighing, I ran my fingers across, trying to figure it out. But it was not my hands that showed me the answer, it was a memory. "…Did we ever take out the threads that Cleon used to stitch up your injury?" I glanced up and saw Nuada's expression blank. "We did not, did we?" 

"No, I definitely don't remember that." He smiled sheepishly. "There has been so much going on." We completely forgot. 

"It is the threads, then." I sighed. "Okay, I have to remove them. There is no way these can be safe to just leave in your skin." 

"I am in your very capable hands." 

"I… will have to cut them." I remembered the Fade. I remembered what that 'nurse' had said. "I will have to use a knife." Did she not say that she 'hovered knives' over him? I had no idea why. It made no sense to me. But I also knew asking would be a very, _very_ bad idea. 

He tensed under my hand again, but he cupped my chin to bring my face up fully, to look me right in the eye. "I am in your very capable hands, Layla." I heard the hidden words as clearly as if he had screamed him. 'I trust you.' It was the same thing he had told me on the balcony at Redcliffe. 

It made me smile. "Then hold still. It will hurt a little." 

"All right." He smiled back, and I noticed it was shaky. "So, just hold still." 

"You may tell me a story while we work. Tell me how Fergus met Oriana." 

"Oh, now _that_ is a story." His shaky smile turned into a grin. "Now, it all started with a rabbit." …This was going to be a ride of a story. Well, it should have us laughing before long. "More specifically, it all started with a rabbit, a fire, and an accidental hostage situation." …I HAD TO HEAR THIS! 

* * *

After getting the stitches out of Nuada's stomach wound, and I recovered from my brush of death by laughter and my utter shock that Fergus and Oriana had even _liked_ each other, much less courted, married, and had a kid… well, after all that, we continued through the mountain cave and came upon a room filled with books, eggs, and dragonlings. Oh, and Elspeth and Alistair were in the _middle_ of the dragonlings. She was stitching an injury on his arm, and the dragonlings… were as calm as kittens. 

"Did you two seriously tame baby dragons?" Nuada immediately deadpanned. Both of them glanced up at us, and gave us smiles. Elspeth went right back to stitching, though. "What in all the holy flames…?" 

"I have no idea what happened," Alistair admitted easily. The fact that he did not react to the needle made me think Elspeth had numbed the area up. I had not known she carried numbing herbs? When had she gotten that? "They were growling and yelping and one bit my hand. Then they turned into kittens." Now why would that be? "And now Elspeth is kindly making sure that I can actually use my hand." 

"Though, if I had known you would not have been long, I would have waited instead of panicking," Elspeth sighed. I crouched down by them, noting how even the stitches were. "The last time I stitched a wound was after Ostagar." 

"I think I need to be teasing you over panicking over such a small thing," Nuada joked, leaning over to watch too. I noticed he kept a wary eye on the dragonlings, but they remained incredibly well behaved. "Let's remember he has stitches in his hand, though. Layla discovered we forgot all about the ones I had, and it is a _pain_ to get them out at that stage." 

"Ouch…" Alistair winced before laughing a little. "Well, I guess that goes to show where our priorities are," he noted. "Saving people, killing people, and maybe actually tending to our injuries if we think about it." 

"Yeah, no, we are having a reorganization of priorities," I deadpanned. I studied the wound a bit with my magic before nodding. "You should be fine with just the stitches, though we will have to check it frequently. This is your shield hand, right?" 

"Yeah, so it isn't as big of a deal. I don't _have_ to hold anything in it." Elspeth tied off the string and carefully wrapped his hand in bandages. "Your hands are really tiny, Elspeth." Well, in comparison to his, that was true. "Sorry, I just noticed." 

"That is fine," Elspeth murmured. She tied off the bandage and smiled at him. "I think that is acceptable. But please, next time, let me kick the thing. I know Nuada asked to let you and him show off, but being bit by a dragonling is not the way to do that." 

"Aw, but it would have put a scuff on your boots!" Alistair laughed as she frowned. "Regardless, Nuada, what happened to your gauntlet?" 

"A drake ate it," Nuada deadpanned. Elspeth gave _him_ a look. "Hey, don't get mad that Alistair and I had the same idea. Great minds think alike!" 

"Fools also seldom differ, dearest twin," she retorted instantly, voice as sweet as candy. It made Nuada laugh, and I wondered if this was a little joke between them. "We have to get you _another_ set of armor." 

"Yes, yes, I know that already. At least it wasn't a destroyed breastplate this time!" That reminded me of the battle with Uldred. I remembered seeing Uldred attacking, remembered seeing Nuada blocking the _wrong_ arm, remembered all the blood and the sheer raw fear… "Layla?" I tried to smile at him, but I thought it was forced. It felt forced, at least, and he looked concerned. "Hey, what's…?" 

Elspeth, however, took my hand and tugged me with her. I went without thinking about it, really, and just focused on taking calming breaths. But the thoughts echoed through my head repeatedly. 'He took my injuries to save me. He took Alistair's injuries to save him.' 'He lost his eye protecting Irving.' 'He was bitten just now, and I knew he had been protecting me.' 'He was always getting hurt, protecting people. He was always sacrificing himself for others.' 'Was it going to kill him? Was he going to die under my hands because I did not have the strength to save him?' 

It was really scary, loving someone who did not care for himself at all. 

"Layla." Elspeth's voice was soft as she stroked my hair. We were by one of the bookcases. I thought she dragged me here in case I wanted a distraction, instead of talking. "What do you need?" she asked, confirming my suspicions. "Let me help you, if I can." 

I glanced over at Alistair and Nuada. The two were talking softly about something I could not hear, and were also playing with the dragonlings. "I think I was just overwhelmed," I whispered, turning my attention back to her. "You already know, do you not? What I feel for…?" 

"I have been suspecting, for a while, that you loved Nuada." She kept her voice quiet, and I was so grateful for it. "I think my first thought was worry. Historically speaking, Couslands are a very difficult bunch to love. That my parents were happily married is a bit of a miracle." She grimaced. "That Fergus was also happily married was a shock. None of us expected that." I wondered if the… rather unconventional… first meetings helped with that? "Neither of us are very… healthy. While I had always known, I had never realized how bad it all was until I traveled with everyone." 

"Why was that? Is it seriously how you are raised?" 

"We are raised to be perfect. That is how all of Fereldan sees the Couslands." Now, she smiled bitterly. "Father had actually been laid up, prior to you all meeting him." What. "He had vomited blood from stomach ulcers." WHAT?! "But no one knew. No one could know." 

"Why are we saving the world again?" I simply sighed heavily. I knew the answer to that. It was because we could. It was the right thing to do. It was because, despite all the pain, this world was still worth saving. It always would be. "Still, might I ask a serious question?" I looked her right in the eye. "Will it… is it possible to safely love someone who does not love himself?" 

"Yes." She answered without hesitation. "I know because my father hated himself, yet my mother loved him dearly." He did? "Father always was crushed with guilt at surviving White River when others did not. He was keenly aware of his flaws, though his greatest ended up being what killed him." 

"If you are talking about how he was kind, kinder than anyone had any right to ask, and that someone took advantage of it, then I do not find that a 'flaw'." She looked startled, actually started. Her eyes were wide and everything, and it had been a long time since I saw her show emotions so visibly. "I think kindness is a strength, and it is a testament to how vile Howe is that he took advantage of it." 

"…You…" She smiled softly, shakily. "You are a very strange, but very wonderful, person, Layla." That… was a complement, right? "Regardless, though, yes, it is possible. But, I cannot say it will be an easy road to get there." She shrugged. "I have once heard it said that you cannot love a person without loving yourself. I think it is nonsense, though." I thought that sounded healthy. "Father loved Mother so much he forgot what it was like to hate himself. Father loved us, his children, so much that he forgot." …Oh. That was what she meant. It was not being 'dependent' on love, so much as using it as a reminder, a reminder that even if you did not love yourself, _someone_ did. At least, I thought that was what she was getting at. "Do you feel a bit better?" 

"Mm, I think so." I glanced at Alistair and Nuada again, and saw them laughing. "I think… he is worth the work." Elspeth smiled sweetly at that. "Though, I do have another serious question?" I smiled sheepishly at her. "Has he… figured it out?" 

"Mmm…" She closed her eyes in thought, and I found it a little hard to breath. "My brother has a habit of assuming the worst." Huh? "Part of it is the tactician in him. He plans for the worst-case scenario. Another part is simply our upbringing. So, the more he wants something, the more he is certain that he will never get it." That sounded so sad. "It can, at times, make him a tad… oblivious. So, no, I don't think he's noticed." 

"Oh, that is a…" Wait. "Hold on, are you saying he _wants_ my…?" 

She actually laughed at me! It was a quiet laugh, hidden behind her hand, but I heard it! "We would not be having this conversation if I thought otherwise, Layla. I would be doing my level best to steer you away." Oh. Yes, that does make sense. "I know Nuada better than anyone. I always have. So, even if he _did_ notice, the first step will have to be yours. He has had many partners over the years, and he would not want you to think that is solely what he is after." My face flushed, but I smiled a little giddily. "Ah, but do not expect your love to change him or anything. He might change but-" 

"But that will be because he is actively trying to change his flaws, and to expect love to be magical and miracle-working is very unhealthy." She looked startled and I felt absolutely gleeful at taking her by surprise for once. "I might be inexperienced in romance, but I _did_ grow up with Wynne." 

"That… makes so much sense." She smiled warmly and gently. "I think that is all the warnings I have. But, I am very serious. You _will_ have to be the one to take the first step. He won't." 

"Yes…" I sighed. "W-well, perhaps later… when things are… relatively…" Confessing in the middle of a ruin with dragons did not seem like a good idea! 

"Take your time." She stroked my hair, and for a brief instance, I was reminded of my mother. "I look forward to having you as a sister-by-marriage, though." I squeaked, face burning, and she actually laughed. "I'm sorry. I had to tease, just a little." 

"You can be quite mean, but I guess it's a reason why we love you so." She gave me a confused look and I smiled before changing the subject. This was definitely the time. I knew she would not want to open up as I did. It was easy to give advice, and so much harder to take it. So, it was time for a subject change, and I saw something on the shelf immediately. "Is that… something on the First Blight?" 

"You're right!" We exchanged a smile, and happily dived into the books as the boys continued playing with the dragonlings. It was a nice distraction from everything, and maybe we could find a hint! Even if we did not, though, I think I needed the mental break, at least. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: I figured a more light-hearted, for a given value of 'light', chapter would be VERY needed given the previous one. So, have this one! Little in the way of plot, and bunches of call-backs, serious talks, but I hope it was a fun read nonetheless. I think Kolgrim is technically located _inside_ the caverns, buuut it's more fun if we meet him on the mountaintop, so look forward to seeing him later. 
> 
> Oh, as for Alistair and the dragons? In the _Silent Grove_ comic, it is revealed that the 'Blood of King Calenhad' is needed to revide the dragons slumbering in the Silent Grove temple. In the _Until We Sleep_ comic, Sten reveals that King Calenhad was actually a Reaver, who drank the blood of a 'great dragon', and a measure of the strength he gained was passed down through his descendants. If I recall correctly, in the _Silent Grove_ comic, Alistair actually does challenge a dragon (a High or Great Dragon, can't remember) and it refuses to take the challenge because of the blood. 
> 
> Basically, he has 'old blood' thanks to Calenhad, and I'm using that here as an excuse to not kill cute baby dragons. Because baby dragons. 
> 
> Next Chapter – the Anvil with Aiden 


	76. Chapter 66) One for the Many

Chapter 66) One for the Many 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"I don't get it, Valendrian." It was after Valendrian had told the story of a tragic hero, a hero who had wanted to accomplish peace so badly that he started a war that wiped out everything. "Why would he think that was a good idea?" I asked. I was helping him sort his books._

_"Sometimes, Aiden, you want something so much that you declare 'the end justifies the means'," Valendrian answered. He busied himself with making us some tea on the half-broken stove. "You become so desperate for your goal that you slide into villainy. An accurate view of the problem, but fall into insanity as you find that goal increasingly out of reach."_

_"But what's the point? All that death…"_

_"Hold onto that mentality, Aiden. Never let it go." I glanced back at Valendrian and saw he was deadly serious. "That mentality will help you know when to walk away."_

_"…Okay?" Why would I…? Never mind. He wouldn't answer anyway. "Where does this go?"_

_"Top shelf, please."_

* * *

"If Branka is anywhere, it has to be here." It was hard to tell if Oghren was happy or not about the possibility. Then again, he did just hear, from a cousin, what his wife did. "Best be prepared." Oh, really? Let me just go ahead and empty what little remained in my stomach. "She will be." Terrific. 

Sighing, we continued on. As best as we could, we covered the two corpses in stone. With the broodmother, we had Morrigan and Wynne manipulate the stone to encase her. I could tell it took a lot out of both, they swayed as they walked, but it had been nice. Leliana had sung. It had been a welcome respite. 

However, we had to keep going. Hopefully, the end was in sight, especially as we stepped out of the caverns and into a large open room. No signs of an ambush, but that just made me twitchy. Something was about to happen. I could feel it. 

Two seconds later, I was proven right. A rumble and a shake of the ground later, and a freaking wall blocked our path back. A _wall_ just showed up behind us out of nowhere. We were freaking trapped. What in flames is this?! 

"Let me be blunt with you." I whirled at the voice, hand going for my greatsword. There, up above, was a dwarf. Brown hair in pigtails was what I first noticed, mostly because it looked so… off. Off compared to the quiet madness in brown eyes. Off compared to the dented and bloody armor. "After all this time, my tolerance for social graces is fairly limited," she continued. Voice even and calm. "That doesn't bother you, I hope." Was this…? 

"Well, shave my back and call me an elf!" Thank you for the _lovely_ mental image there, Oghren! "Branka!" he laughed, clearly delighted. I wondered if he had forgotten about his cousin, Hespith I think her name was, but decided it wasn't that. This was just his reaction to having his hope answered after two long years. "By the Stone, I barely recognized you!" 

"Oghren." Branka, however, didn't seem to think anything of it. Nonchalant. Apathetic. "It figures that you'd eventually find your way here. You have always been two things. Stubborn and strong." She shrugged. "Hopefully you can find your way back more easily." The glee in Oghren's face faded. Maybe it would have been better that his hope had been answered with nothing… no. No, it wouldn't have. I knew that feeling. I knew that feeling from Ostagar. "And how shall I address you?" She focused on me. "You're the leader of this little group, that much is obvious." Obvious, huh? "Are you the hired sword of the latest lordling come looking for me?" She shrugged again. "Or are you just the only one who didn't mind Oghren's ill breath." I… kind of wanted to punch her. Already. Now, granted, part of that was probably because of Hespith but still." 

"Have some respect, woman." Huh? "You're talking to a Grey Warden." And he… wanted her to have respect for me, just for that? Why? Was it because I listened to him? 

"Ah, so, he's some important errand boy then." I was no one's errand boy. Not now, at least. "I suppose something serious has happened then." She began to pace on the hill. I noticed a tent behind her. Hers? "Is Endrin dead? That seems likely. He was on the old and wheezy side." 

"Well, yes, he is dead," I answered, deciding to just take control of this… conversation for now. It seemed best. "And the Assembly is in deadlock." 

"Strange, I thought they would have been screaming for the little princess to take over." The who? "So, why is a Warden here? Getting involved in politics is against your rules." It was? Well, whoops? "And the number of surfacers who care about dwarven politics can be counted on a single hand, if that." She nodded to herself, clearly thinking. "You must have a patron. A highly placed patron, who wants something dear." 

"No, I just want the deadlocked ended, and a casteless told me you were the one who could do it. No patron, no rules. This is my decision." 

"Well, I don't care if the Assembly puts a drunken monkey like Oghren on the throne." The urge to punch her was normal, right? I wasn't being too sensitive or anything, right? "Because our great protector, our greatest innovation, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world…!" She sounded so melodramatic. "It is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting!" Uh… "The Anvil of the Void, the means by which the ancestors forged the golems and held off the first archdemon ever to rise! It's _here_!" I could hear the madness. Should we knock her out and go get her help? "So close, I can taste it!" Why would you want to taste a darkspawn infested anvil? 

"But of course, there's a catch." There had to be. She'd be at the thing if otherwise. 

"Yes…" Her voice dropped to a hiss, and her eyes narrowed in a glare. "It lies at the end of a gauntlet of traps, designed by Caridin himself." Oh? Then maybe that was a sign to leave the Anvil alone. "My people and I have given body and soul to unlocking its secrets." While she might have sold her soul for it, she certainly hadn't given her body yet. She still breathed, and she had all her limbs. _"This_ is what is important; _this_ is what matters!" I was about to ask Leliana to snipe her. "If I succeed, the dwarven people benefit!" The scariest thing was how certain she was that she was in the _right_. "Kings, politics…" She scoffed. "All that is transitory." 

Maybe so, but the blood she sacrificed for this thing would stain the roads forever. "So, what do we do? I need you to return." 

"And if you want me to get involved in that imbecilic election, I must have the Anvil." I glanced back at Leliana, ready to sign for her to notch an arrow and let it fly. "Which is why I blocked you path with my own trap." Okay, screw shooting her, Sten and I were going to cut her in half. Or I was going to ask Shale if she minded throwing a rock at a squishy. "There is now only one way out. Forward." Through the traps. We were the bait. 

"What has this place done to you, Branka?!" Oghren snapped. I couldn't tell if he was more angry or devastated. Perhaps it was an equal mix of both. "I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance!" Yeah, all I saw was madness. Weird how that worked. 

"I am your paragon." You were nothing of mine, except possibly a new stain on my sword! 

She dropped down then, out of sight and, likely, out of easy reach. I took a deep, steadying breath to control my temper. Now was not the time. 

It probably also wasn't the time for laughter, but Zevran's deadpanned comment made _that_ impossible to stop. "Oghren, my friend, we need to talk about your taste in wives. A nice long talk." 

And Oghren's retort made it even harder to not laugh. "We should also talk about why you elves frolic all over the place. And preen." 

"It's fun! You should try it. If, you know, you can stand losing the stench and maybe some of that beard." 

I didn't hear the rest. I was too busy laughing. Probably too loud and raucous, but Maker, did I ever need that laugh. 

* * *

It was decided that Zevran and Leliana would handle figuring out how to get through. They would then direct everyone for how to go about it. Morrigan and Wynne when magic was better. Oghren, Shale, and Sten for when brute strength was better. 

Cleon and I got to stand around and look pretty or something. It was nice to _not_ have to do anything for a bit. 

'This has to be the longest day,' Cleon signed, sighing heavily as he leaned against the wall. I almost thought the wall was the only thing holding him up. It was definitely the only thing holding _me_ up. 'Wait, is it still one day?' 

"I have no bloody clue," I replied, signing tiredly. It felt like I hadn't slept in days. I really hoped we didn't have a grand fight on the horizon. I doubted I would be coordinated enough. "Ugh… I know Lord Nuada warned me things would be chaotic, but I think this exceeds expectations." 

'Don't we always?' Cleon had the nerve to grin. It morphed into a soft, sweet smile, though, and I glanced around to try and figure out what caused it. I found my answer easily. Morrigan had glanced by and winked at him before doing whatever task Leliana asked. 

"So, it looks like things are going well between you two." Cleon glanced at me, frowning slightly, so I made sure to sign the words again. And his eyes narrowed. 'Yes?' 

'I have told you before, it is just a physical relationship.' 

"Which is why she goes out of her way to press against you, spend time with you, hold your hand when you're freaking out." Cleon rolled his eyes, but I nudged his leg to keep him looking at me. "Cleon, if it really is just a physical relationship, that's fine. This is all your business." I looked him right in the eye and made my signs as sharp and clear as I could. "But I don't want you to just run away from it if-" 

Cleon slashed the air with his hand, a clear indication of interrupting me. 'But are you not running away yourself?' he signed quickly. I felt my thoughts clunk to a stop. 'I thought it funny at first, how oblivious you have been, but it is getting ridiculous. You can't be that oblivious.' I… 'You ignore it. You run away from it. I don't know why. But if you are going to lecture about running, Aiden, you should make sure you aren't doing it yourself!' The sharpness of the signs gave the impression of yelling. Cleon was yelling at me. 'By the Dread Wolf, what has you so scared?' I… 

"Dears?" Both of us whirled at Wynne's voice, Cleon a split-second later than me. "We're ready to move on," she murmured, her signs gentle. I doubted she knew what we had been talking about, but our body language made it clear we had been arguing. "Do you two need a minute?" Cleon and I glanced at each other. I knew by the look in his eyes that he wasn't done with me. But I also knew he would wait. Because he had seen it. He had shaken me, and I… I couldn't be shaken. Not now. Not here. Later, when we were safer. Later, when things were calmer. But not here. 

So, instead, Cleon signed, 'no, let's go.' And I had never been more grateful for Cleon's ability to just _understand_. 'How many more traps?' 

"At least one, probably as many as four." Oh. Great. "I'm here to listen if you need anything." 

'We know.' Cleon smiled. 'But right now… not a good place.' Not a good place at all. Not with us exhausted, and our nerves frayed because of the broodmother and Branka. 

"Then let's join the others." Yes. And I could ignore this conversation for a time. 

* * *

We were expected. We were clearly expected. There was no reason for the path to suddenly be lined by golems as we made it past the last trap and exited to a too large, too hot room. Except to be dramatic. And to lead us right to the being at the end. A golem that looked so incredibly different from the others that I almost wondered if it _was_ a golem. 

"Welcome, travelers," it greeted as we crowded close to it, me in the front. Another golem who could talk. Its voice even echoed, not unlike Shale's. "My name is Caridin." What. Wait, no, what? 

"Aren't you dead?" I instantly felt my cheeks burn at my blurted words. "I'm sorry. That was rude." 

"But reasonable." I almost got the impression it was laughing at me. "But yes, I am him, alive long past my time." Its… his…? His gaze turned towards Shale, though, and I was almost certain he was smiling. "And there is a face I recognize still." I glanced over at Shale, and thought it looked startled. "Shayle of House Cadash." What. "Come a bit closer. You are smaller than I remember." 

"You… know who I am?" Shale asked, incredulous and startled. I could see its eyes narrow as it stepped forward. "Is it you who forged me then? You who gave me my name?" Oh, were we meeting Shale's parent? 

"Have you forgotten, then?" Caridin sounded sad, but not surprised. "Ah, but it _has_ been so long." He nodded, though it was almost a bow. "Yes, I made you into a golem, but before that, you were a dwarf." Wait, what?! "Just as I was." Hold on a moment here! "The finest warrior who served King Valtor." Who was that?! How long ago are we talking here?! "And the only woman to volunteer to become a golem." We have officially hit the 'this shit is way too weird for me' level! 

"Woman? Dwarf?" Shale sounded just as surprised. "How?" 

"I laid you on the Anvil of the Void, here in this very room. You reassured me as I prepared. I remember it clearly even now." Can someone explain what is going on?! "Travelers, who seek the Anvil, please, hear my tale. I could not bear to doom you to repeat it." Um… uh… "I notice sign language among your number." Oh, good, someone was signing for Cleon. "Should I speak more slowly, or is this good?" 

"No, you're fine," Morrigan spoke up. She was leaning into Cleon, and he watched her hands more than anything. "Just don't speak much faster." 

"Very well." How kind of him to think about that. 

"So, you made the Anvil, yes?" I asked, taking command again for the conversation. "That is what I have heard." 

"Yes," he confirmed. I tried not to watch the sparks in his joints. "Though I made many things, I rose to fame and earned my status based on a single item, forged from an idea I thought the Ancestors had given me." The Anvil of the Void. "It allowed me to forge a man of steel and stone, as flexible and clever as any soldier. An invincible army, completely immune to the Taint of the Blight. That is what we needed to face the horrors the humans unleashed." The hum… wait, Caridin believed the Chantry version? Did all dwarves? Or did they have their own story of how the darkspawn came and Caridin was the exception? "But I did not tell anyone the cost." 

"…I'm not going to like this, am I?" 

"I would be gladdened if you loathed it." He didn't… "No mere smith, however skilled, has the power to create life." I was going to be sick. I was going to be so, so sick. "To make my golems live, I had to take their lives from elsewhere." I swallowed fast, desperate to keep from throwing up. "I only used volunteers. I only wanted volunteers, those who were willing to give up everything, body and soul, for the purpose." 

"A… dire shortcut." 

"A horrific one." Well, I _was_ trying to be tactful. "Nothing so great many be achieved without sacrifice. One for the many. That was how I made it through." I… "I asked for volunteers. Men of the Warrior Caste were who answered. They wanted to defend Orzammar. They wanted to live forever in a body stronger than the finest armor. They knew it would kill them. I knew they knew because they did not ask to speak with those who had gone before." But if someone gave you their life, did you really have the right to _take_ it? "They stripped down before the Anvil, and laid inside a skin of armor, so large it made even the largest look like a child. A babe, with the anvil as their first and last cradle." 

"Is that why it's all the way out here?" 

"Miles of earth on all sides. No one can hear anything, much less the screams." My stomach rebelled. I clenched my jaw. "I poured molten lyrium through the eyes, the mouth, into every joint and chink in the armor." My eyes darted over to Shale automatically. It seemed impassive. The rest of us… well, Sten was stoic, but I swore the rest were green in the face. "They silenced quickly, of course, but I could still smell the blood under the metal." 

"Did they not wake on the Anvil?" WHY WAS I ASKING?! I DIDN'T NEED TO HEAR THIS1 

"Yes, writhing and twisting with every blow as I shapped the armor with hammer and tongs." I glanced at the other golems, still lining the path. They didn't seem to even be alive. "Moaning and groaning in pain, but I tuned it out. I had to make it perfect. One for the many, and I would not make a mistake. No melted slag binding the eyes, no granite crippling the leg. One for the many, and I would make it worth it." 

"You… said you only _intended_ on using volunteers?" My mouth was dry. I was going to scream. 

"Yes, but my king, King Valtor, was not satisfied." Oh… I knew where this was going. "Soon, a river of blood flowed out of this place, and into the lava below. The casteless, the criminals, the political enemies… all were forced into becoming golems." Few rulers let rivals run free. "Finally, after six years, I cracked. It grew too much. I refused to make any more golems, volunteers or otherwise. It was not worth it. Too many ones were being sacrificed for a swindling many. I could not make it worth it." That was the danger in the thinking. When did you _stop_? "And, so, Valtor had me put onto the Anvil." Which was why he was a golem. And why he looked different from the others. He had been forged by a different hand. "My apprentices knew enough to make me, but they could not bind me." Bind? "They could not make a control rod. I made sure to never teach that." Right, then… thing that Shale said controlled it before. …Wait, they died and gave up their free will for… the First Blight must have been _desperate_. "Regardless, though, I retained my mind." Caridin's attention turned from me, back to Shale. "You were among the most loyal, Shale. Throughout the years, throughout all the attacks and battles, you never strayed far from my side." 

"Then how come I was not here?" Shale demanded. I thought it sounded angry. "Why was I found in the dark, away from everything?" 

"I sent you away out of mercy. I had hoped you could find rest and peace." I got the impression he was smiling again. 

"With a control rod?" 

"No, I destroyed those. Though, it is possible they fashioned poor imitations, ones that the golems could, eventually, throw off." Was that how Shale…? "No, I used simpler methods. I am almost grateful you do not remember. I screamed hateful lies, anything I could think to make you turn away." Cruel to be kind. "And it seems, eventually, you were able to break free of the control rod, as you swore." That… was almost amusing. 

"I… do not remember." And Shale sounded sad. "Not at all." 

"That is, perhaps, for the best." Caridin returned his attention to me. "I have remained entombed here ever since, seeking a way to destroy the Anvil." To make sure it could never be used again. "Alas, I cannot do it myself." What. "No golem can touch it. I made it too well." Oh. Well, damn. "Please, can you do what I cannot?" Well… 

"No!" I yelped and whirled, eyes wide as I realized Branka had followed us through. I wasn't sure why that was surprising. She had all but stated she would do so. But still…! "The Anvil is mine!" she snapped, sliding to a stop. I soon came to the uncomfortable realizing that our group was right in the middle of Caridin and Branka. I knew exactly what was going on. "No one will take it from me!" A choice had to be made. And I knew it was going to fall to Cleon and me. 

"Shale!" Caridin turned to Shale, hand out entreatingly. "You fought to destroy the Anvil once," he pleaded. "Please, do not let it fall into unthinking hands again!" Shale hesitated. It didn't remember, but… I thought things resonated with it. Something you recognized yet didn't. A thing you knew should be there, but wasn't. And that… was enough, I think. Enough to make Shale want to help Caridin. 

"Don't listen!" Branka looked right at me. "He's been trapped here for a thousand years! Stewing in his own madness!" …Uh… hi, pot, meet kettle. "Help me get the Anvil, and I will give you the army you need for the Blight." A-ah… "With or without the Assembly!" Help… someone, help… 

"Branka!" Oghren shouted, jumping into the argument. Desperately, seizing the extra time, I looked at Cleon, and he slid to my side. "You mad, bleeding nugtail! Are you so desperate that you can't see what you've lost to get the Anvil?" 

"Look around, Oghren!" She gestured to the walls. "Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling ruin filled with darkspawn sputum?!" She looked so desperate, so mad. "The Anvil will let us take back our glory!" 

There was more arguing, but I focused on Cleon. 'I am in way over my head,' I signed to him, not even bothering to speak it. He nodded, wry smile telling me he agreed. 'What do you think?' 

'Me? I can see both sides,' he signed easily. I sighed. 'But… I cannot say I like the idea.' I waited for him to continue, even as the argument turned to screaming. 'They might get volunteers at first, but then there is going to be the casteless, the criminals. All I can think of is people like Zerlinda being dragged kicking and screaming.' Yeah… 'And what is to stop them from stealing people from the surface? What about humans, elves, quanri?' Exactly. Where did it stop? Where did it end? 'But I can't say I dislike having an army. That is what we are trying to get.' 

'But is it worth it? I…" I shook my head. 'I don't think so.' 

'Neither do I.' Cleon smiled wryly. 'Besides, can you imagine Layla's screaming?' …Mistress Layla would literally kill us. 'And while Nuada is pragmatic, I think he would knock some sense in our heads.' Yes, I thought so too. No, I knew it. So… 

"We will destroy the Anvil." _Those_ words I spoke aloud, and it instantly silenced the arguing. "That is our decision," I continued, voice far stronger, clearer, surer than I felt. I needed a very, very long nap. "End of discussion." Still, I couldn't help but glance at the others. 

Oghren looked upset, but he bit his tongue. He understood, I think, but he also wanted to keep on holding onto that hope that Branka could be saved. And if I destroyed the Anvil, that hope withered. 

I saw Morrigan open her mouth, likely to argue for the Anvil. But Cleon gave her a pleading look, and she remained silent, glancing away. Yeah, no, there was no way that relationship was just physical. Morrigan didn't shut up for anyone. 

I noticed Zevran also looked ready to argue, but I looked him in the eye and shook my head. He stared at me for a long moment before nodding, even smiling slightly. I guess I managed to persuade him. I hoped so, at least. 

Leliana and Wynne gave us warm looks, and it was nice to see someone approved. I wondered about Sten, but he simply nodded. Accepting. 

Shale gave us an _almost_ smile. That, alone, was probably worth it. 

"No!" Branka shrieked, pulling at her hair. "No, you can't do this!" I still wanted to cut her in two. But Oghren had helped us out so much. It was only right that I _try_ … 

"Easy, let's calm down a moment," I murmured, heading for her. My weapon was on my back. My hands were up to show I wasn't armed. She didn't know about the mother's dagger in my boot. I was safe, but I seemed… less threatening, I hoped. "Paragon Branka, if we can just talk…" 

"There is nothing to talk about!" I could think of a lot, and you were already fraying my nerves, so by all that is holy…! "Look at it!" She pointed towards what I assumed was the Anvil, stationed on a hanging cliff. "Look at all of it! See how worth it everything was?" Uh… no. No, I thought of Hespith, I thought of the dwarf who became that broodmother, and I could not see how _anything_ was worth that! "The Anvil is everything I thought it would be, and-" I'M NOT HEARING ONE MORE WORD! 

"No it wasn't worth it!" I HAD ENOUGH! "The end doesn't always justify the means!" 

"Fine talk from a _warden_!" So what?! 

"I'm a city elf!" The words cracked through the air. My temper was lost, but I burned with the anger. It wasn't like at the estate, when Shianni, Nesiara, and the others had been kidnapped. I… wasn't afraid of this. Not this time. "My people have always been on the wrong end of the 'end justifies the means'!" Elves were always 'acceptable losses'. Elves were always the 'sacrifice' when one was called. "You want to sacrifice the one to save the many? _Sacrifice yourself, not those who gave you their lives!_ " 

"But can you not hear it?!" She sounded so desperate. "The Anvil! It speaks with a thousand voices, begging to be used again!" 

"That's the thousand of voices screaming as their sacrifice led to nothing!" 

"The dead? You think that…?" She shook her head almost violently. "No! It's the Anvil, wanting to be used!" …Did she snap because she was crushed by the weight of her decision? Snap because she became desperate to make the deaths 'worth it'? 

"Think clearly." Take a deep breath. Keep calm. I could do this. I could make her see it. Now that I understood, I could… "Ask yourself where the power comes from. You just heard it." 

"Some… some imitation!" She snarled at Caridin. "That thing is not Caridin! Caridin was a genius, the best of us all! He would never turn on his invention! He never made mistakes!" Hero-worship and guilt. It cracked her. "Orzammar can be saved only with the Anvil!" 

"No, it can be saved in other ways." I gestured to Caridin. "He is willing to die to see the Anvil destroyed. That must tell you the truth, if nothing else." 

"But… but…!" She shook her head. "The voices, they call…" Cracked her. Shattered her. "Hespith… she tried to say, but I… she told me lies, betrayed me, so I…" Betrayed her too. "No, I just didn't listen. I didn't want to listen." She gave me a smile as broken as Hespith's, right before she jumped. "The Anvil… has to be destroyed. It's an abomination. My hope… is answered with nothing." I… "Tell them I died. Tell them I died in the Deep Roads." Huh?! "After all, the Branka who made the journey, the Branka who loved Hespith, the Branka who married and loved Oghren… she died a long time ago." Her smile turned almost sweet as she turned to Oghren. "Try and find some happiness in the mess, okay? You're stubborn and strong. You'll be all right." Hold on a moment. "Goodbye." 

And she stepped back, leaning off the edge. Automatically, I lunged forward, trying to catch her. I saw Cleon do the same next to me, reaching for her too. He actually brushed her hand. But she pulled it back and smiled, bright and cheerful. 

And then she fell. I could only stare in shock as I heard the 'splash' below. 

"And so the Anvil claims one last life…" I turned to look at Caridin. It was clear, by his tone, that he thought Branka's death was his fault, solely. But a brief glance at Cleon, staring at his hand, staring at the hand that _almost_ had her… that told me Cleon blamed himself. And a look at Oghren told me he blamed _himself_ , face crumbled as if to cry, but too battered and broken to remember how. "I wish no mention of it had made it into history," he continued quietly, staring at the spot where Branka had been. "Shale, I thank you and your companions. I am pleased to see your strength of will remains." 

"I don't know what to say," Shale murmured. Still, it nodded. "Thank you." 

"Please, do not thank me. I made an observation, nothing more." My addled mind was seriously wondering if, when they were dwarves, Caridin and Shayle had something going on. Of course, there was _no way in flames I could ask_. "It is I who should thank you. Finally, this will all end." Right. "Stranger, will you?" 

"Yes, I'll do it," I volunteered. I had the overwhelming urge to punch something. "I'll destroy it." 

"Thank you…" I think, if he could, he'd be crying from relief. "Is there any boon I can offer you?" Uh… 

"Oghren, you decide." Oghren looked at me like I was insane. "Yes, I'm bonkers. You pick anyway." 

"Weirdo," Oghren immediately deadpanned. It actually got a laugh out of the group. "Don't suppose you could bring back everyone, Caridin?" …Ah… "Branka, Hespith… everyone?" Caridin shook his head. "Yeah, I figured. Thought I'd ask anyway." Oghren sighed. "I don't want anything. Best to just let this all end." Oghren… "But there still is the election." Oh. Right. That. 

"For the aid you have given me, I will put my hammer to steel one last time. A crown to give to your chosen king." …Wait. Wait hold on, who said anything about _us_ picking a king?! I mean… okay, yes, he couldn't come back with us, but… 

Of course, there was no protesting. There couldn't be. Caridin went up to the Anvil and started hammering, working on the crown just as he promised. Feeling drained beyond belief, I sat down on the ground and debating sprawling, or even just passing out. I only didn't because someone sat behind me, pressing their back to mine, propping me up. A quick glance back proved the person had pale hair, and bronze skin, so I knew it was Zevran. And I simply relaxed against him, closing my eyes and letting him take some of the weight off me. I was dead tired. I really was. 

Maybe we should have had everyone come to Orzammar. I could only hope the others were fine hunting down the Sacred Ashes. But, knowing us, they had probably fallen into far too much trouble. 

Clanging footsteps made me open my eyes, and I saw Caridin had returned. To my infinite surprise, there was a golden crown in his hands, almost comically small in comparison. Did he forge it that fast? Or had I rested longer than I thought, or felt. 

"Here, young warrior," Caridin murmured as he passed the crown to Oghren. I noticed it looked much more 'normal' in Oghren's hands. "If any ask, I signed it with House Ortan, as I am prouder of my mother than I am of myself." Uh… no idea. Going to just smile and nod. "Give it to whom you will. It is time for the dead to finally rest." I… "Stranger…" 

"What do I need to do?" I asked, even as I pushed myself up and followed him up the path. I saw the blue veins in the metal anvil. Was that lyrium? Was that how he managed it all? Combining lyrium enchantment with steel working? "Just hit it?" What really startled me was how tiny it was. How normal. This was what thousands died for. 

"Yes, as hard as you can." Well, I can do that. "Go on." Caridin stepped to the side, letting me step to it. "Don't hold back." 

"Right." Taking a breath, I unsheathed my greatsword, brought it high above my head, and swung down. The clang was loud and echoed, and I closed my eyes at the bright light that erupted from the Anvil. I heard something shatter, and felt something bite into my hands, wrists, and arms. 

When the light cleared, and the smoke settled, I realized what had shattered. My greatsword. It had broken from the backlash. Well, the trip _back_ was going to be fun. Not. 

"You have my eternal thanks." I turned to Caridin, and saw him by the edge. I reached out with my bleeding hand, but paused. I… "Atrast nal tunsha," he whispered, turning just enough to look at me. "May you always find your way in the dark." 

And with those words, that hopeful and startingly reassuring prayer, Caridin fell. 

I looked over the edge, watched until he disappeared, and then turned away. I felt way too drained for this. Three suicides. Three suicides, in what felt like both too long and too short of a time. All because of this damn Anvil. 

I would never submit to that mentality. Any time I tried, I would remember this. I would remember all of this, and I would stay the course. 

"You. Warden." I looked up and saw Shale waiting for me at the bottom. I had made it there without realizing it. "Over there," it said, pointing to some stone carving. "There are names." Names? "Those who were made into golems." Oh. "…Will you…?" 

"We'll make a record," I whispered. I thought it smiled. "Just let me get some paper and pen." I glanced at the others, noting how drained they all looked. "Won't take but a moment." 

Honor the lost. Honor the sacrificed. Honor the ones who were sacrificed for the many. That… was all we could do, now. 

I just wanted to get out of the Deep Roads as fast as possible. I needed a very, very long sleep. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: So… I hate Branka. A lot. A lot, a lot. But you can talk her out of the anvil. You have to side with her first, though, so I shifted how/when it happens. Yes, if you do this, she will jump off. There is no way to destroy the Anvil and keep her alive. 
> 
> I decided to throw in the convo with Cleon and Aiden for more character development, and relationship development. Because fun!   
>  Caridin believing the Chantry's version of how the darkspawn came, and the process of golem making, comes from his journal, available as a codex. 
> 
> Leliana and Wynne approve by siding with Caridin. Oghren disapproves (as can be expected), as well as Morrigan and Zevran, though the disapproval can be limited by a successful persuasion. It broke flow to insert the comments, but I wanted to keep the nods in (I will likely have Morrigan and Zevran discuss it with Aiden and/or Cleon later). Sten seems to have no opinion change no matter which side is picked, though he does mock you for siding with Branka. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Kolgrim with Nuada. And dragons. 


	77. Chapter 67) Blood of a Dragon

Chapter 67) Blood of a Dragon 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_The castle library in Nevarra had a lot of interesting things. But, most importantly, it had information on dragons, scientific and academic information. There were research papers, textbooks even. There were diagrams and models. It was fascinating._

_"Well, this isn't something I see often." I blinked slowly as a voice drew me out of the books. "A young boy hiding in the library on a fine day," the man continued, smiling slightly. I recognized him after a moment: Ferdinand Pentaghast, the king's brother. He had taken up dragon hunting like his ancestors when they returned, and was quite skilled. "I think you also have the book I was looking for."_

_"I'm sorry," I replied automatically. It was best to be polite to the royal family, especially since Father was in the middle of sensitive negotiations. I was keenly aware that the negotiations wouldn't even be happening if Father wasn't part of the family thanks to his grandmother. "Do you need it now?"_

_"No, but I would like it before I leave tomorrow for my hunting trip." He smiled slightly. "Actually, I have an idea. Why don't I teach you a few things about dragons?"_

_"Thank you very much." It would be rude to refuse. Besides, this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. "I had a question about this passage?"_

* * *

As we continued on, Elspeth and I subtly split the group. She was walking besides Layla, and I was walking by Alistair. I wasn't quite sure what I had done or said to upset Layla, but it was clear that she would not answer if I asked. So, it was better to put a little distance, and then I could ask later. 

"You know that when the Landsmeet is called, and you win against Loghain, that someone is going to have to pick a ruler, right?" Besides, it let me talk to Alistair about something that had clearly been bugging him for a bit. After all, why would he have even thought of the sentence if it hadn't? 

"It is always the Landsmeet that chooses the ruler of Fereldan," I confirmed as we walked through the caverns. The place was a veritable maze. It would be great for escaping if suddenly attacked. "Traditionally, it is of the Theirin line, but which descendant inherited would vary depending on what the Landsmeet thought and voted." 

"But, if they want to do that, there's… not much choice." Alistair was the last of the line, as far as anyone knew. 

"That is correct. Though, as always, there is the possibility of choosing someone who wasn't of the line." Father had been considered. He had refused, citing that they didn't fight a rebellion to put Uncle Maric on the throne just to see it leave the line in one generation. "Anora is also a good pick." But, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out if that would be good or not. I loved and trusted Anora, but… how many times had someone I loved and trusted did something that destroyed Fereldan in the past few months? It was too many, and it made me less certain of anything of that nature. "I imagine Fergus will be considered, if only for a brief moment." They might consider Elspeth as well. "I imagine the main choice will be between you and Anora, though, assuming your parentage is revealed." 

"If Arl Eamon wakes up, I know that's exactly what he'll do." Alistair sighed. "I'd make a poor king, though." …You have got to be kidding me. "What? I would! Seriously, when I lead-" 

"It's not that, though I do think you are selling yourself short on that front. I remember how well you did leading that squad at Highever." He smiled sheepishly, and I shrugged. "But, I was just startled. Uncle Maric said the same thing, I'm told. He bemoaned being a 'bad king' when he was alive too." 

"…Really?" 

"Yes." I sighed. "It's actually pretty damn ridiculous how like you and Uncle Maric are. He never raised you. He was…" Why am I repeating things that he already knows and, possibly, has issues with? "I need to start that whole conversation over." 

"A reset button, like time magic or something!" Alistair laughed, but I saw the pain in his eyes. "So, be honest. Me being king?" 

"I think you can learn, and that is probably the most important thing. You know you do not know anything, but…" I looked him right in the eye. "Honestly, if I had been asked that at Ostagar, I don't think you would have. But there's more certainty in you now, more resolve. You can learn, but you won't be pushed over. That's what I think." I shrugged. "I don't know if that will make you a good king or bad, Alistair. But I think it makes you a good prince, and a good candidate." 

"…Thanks." The pain in his eyes lessened slightly, even if his smile didn't change. "I'll… think a little more on it." Honestly, that was great to hear. "Of course, knowing Sten, I'll be getting a lecture on the importance of fulfilling your roles or something. I don't know how he got it into his head that it's my _role_ to become king." Ahaha… ha… 

"That is completely my fault, because I badly explained why you being Cailan's brother was something important." 

"Oh, so you're to blame!" He bopped me on the shoulder. "I'll get revenge for that!" 

"Well, _I_ had to get revenge for you flirting with my sister. It's a brother thing." 

"Well…" He trailed off, and sighed. "I suppose if I become king, the Landsmeet will decide my bride." That… was a distinct possibility. It wasn't the norm by any means, but considering how hectic things were, it was entirely possible the nobles would arrange a marriage just to give some semblance of stability. "Maybe it's better if I-" 

"Alistair, there may be times when you have to pick between duty and love, but I swear by all that is holy, if you just give up, I really will get revenge." I stopped and turned, looking him right in the eye. "Trust me. If you didn't have a chance, I would have stopped you long ago. I know Elspeth better than anyone. I always have and, honestly, I probably always will." 

"…Basically, I should stand my ground." He sighed. "I said something like that to Layla too. It's so much easier to _say_ things, than _do_ things." 

"That is why actions speak louder than words, right?" He simply sighed again and I grinned. "So, seriously, don't give up just because things look harsh." 

"Okay, okay." He threw his hands up in defeat. "I'll… think on it." It was likely the best I was going to get. Alistair had everything decided _for_ him, without his consent, all his life. It was scary, making decisions for yourself. "And you promise to remember your own words." 

"I'll try." That was the best _he_ was going to get from _me_ , and he knew it. But, still… I felt I had to say this one thing. "Hey, Alistair?" He gave me a curious look. "You trained in Denerim, didn't you?" 

"For templar training, yes?" Now he looked confused. "Why?" 

"…Whenever the templars are training on the grounds, Uncle Maric would dodge duties to go watch." He became very still. "He never told me why. But, in the few years I knew him, it was a pretty consistent thing. To the point that we could actually schedule around it." To say more… if I said more, he would probably automatically deny it, or turn it into a joke, to escape the possibility of pain. Hope was painful, and this was an old scar, an old wound. So, distraction time. And there was one that was… very easy to pick. "…Did Elspeth and Layla leave us behind?" 

"I… think they did." Alistair accepted the change of subject with grace. "They actually did!" They were nowhere in sight. "Well, great, now we have to run in our heavy armor." 

"At least we don't have to swim in it?" 

"Maker's mercy." We shared a grin, a sign of no hard feelings over the serious conversation, and took off running. 

I would talk to him again, later, about this, after he had more time to think. Well, I would or Aiden would. Aiden might actually be a better choice. I had been raised all my life to focus on duty. I had been forced to make my own decisions from a young age. 

Aiden, at least, knew what it was like to be forced into a role you were suited for, but were utterly convinced you weren't, after all. 

* * *

"Stop." Oh, look at this! It's the cultists we had been anticipating ever since we arrived! They were waiting on the mountaintop, surrounded by pretty, pretty snow. "You will go no further!" Well, I was just grateful we caught up to Elspeth and Layla before running into this lot. That would have been _so_ awkward. 

"My pardon, but who are you?" I asked. Since we had caught sight of the group before they saw us, for once, we had a plan. It was a simple one, and one Elspeth and I had done in the past. Well, we hadn't done it with cultists in the middle of ruins, but it wasn't the first time we had done this with someone who wanted to kill us, and the basic concept was the same. I would be the charming distraction, while the others went on ahead. For some reason, Layla and Alistair didn't like it. 

"You do not have the right to demand my name." 

"Did I demand? My deepest apologies, I had meant to be polite." I smiled winningly, and I saw the speaker, a man with a booming voice, relax unconsciously. It was hard to stay mad at someone being friendly. 

"So it is polite to defile our temple?" Despite his relaxing, though, it was clear he was still angry. I had to keep that anger on me and me alone. "You have spilled the blood of the faithful! Slaughtered our young!" 

"Ah, those…" I had to think fast. "We are simple travelers, who were lost in the mountains when we stumbled upon a village. We were attacked without warning, and wished only to defend ourselves." That was probably… half of a lie. 

"Simple travelers do not have the strength to kill the faithful." Ah, so I was dealing with an arrogant religious zealot. This was _just_ like Orlais! "No more." He came to stand before me, his fellows hanging back. I noticed with some amusement that I was a bit taller than him. "You will tell me now, intruder, why you have come to these mountains, to this temple." 

If I gave a little, then he should give a little in return. "Truthfully, we were in the area to look for the Urn of Sacred Ashes." 

"You did all this for an ancient relic?" He scoffed. "Know this, stranger. The Prophet Andraste has overcome death itself, and has returned to Her faithful in a form more radiant than you can imagine!" All I was learning was that he might be a little touched in the head, it was very cold up here, and the others were slowly making their way past, so this was working nicely. "Not even the Tevinter Imperium could hope to slay Her now!" Okay? "What hope do you have?" Did I say I wanted to kill anyone? 

"I think there was a miscommunication, and I am greatly grieved over it." I smiled. "As I said, I am looked for the Sacred Ashes, _not_ to kill the Most Blessed Lady." A thought occurred to me. "Though, if it might be permitted, I would be honored to see Her in Her glory." 

"None but the Disciples may approach Andraste for now." Still, the words had their intended effect. He relaxed, and seemed less angry. "She is not ready yet, but when the time is right, She will descend upon the nations in fiery splendor, and all will know Her." 

"I eagerly await the day." My feet hurt. Standing still for so long on stone really killed the ankles and knees. 

He actually laughed a little, and became thoughtful. "Ah, yes, since you are so polite… perhaps there is a way to make up for your transgressions." I had the instinctive urge to punch him. "After all, everyone stumbles through the darkness before being found and shown the light." The only light I wanted right now was clear sunlight. It was horribly weak up here. "Perhaps, in fact, through Andraste's mercy, her greatest enemy will become Her greatest _champion_." Should I be flattered? 

I'd pretend. "I am pleased to be so praised, especially in light of everything." The three were almost past. When they were, I could do whatever I wanted. "Might you explain a little more?" I hadn't fast-talked this much since Orlais. 

"The Ashes you seek reside atop this mountain here." They did? Wow, for once, we were lucky. "Watched by an immortal guardian who refuses to accept the truth of the risen Lady." Then again, maybe we weren't. Did it have to be an _immortal_ guardian? "Now the Ashes are chains, preventing holy Andraste from fully realizing Her new form." …Was he asking what I think he was asking? "They are a remnant of Her past incarnation, and She cannot move on as long as they exist." Okay, I wasn't so keen on the Chantry or the Maker, but defiling something that is said to be old and powerful didn't seem like the sanest of ideas. 

It was probably best to play stupid a bit, just to buy more time. "Go on." 

"The Beloved needs to reclaim the Ashes!" He was getting more animated as he talked. "To make them Her own again!" He was _really_ getting into this. "All it would take is a drop of Her blood." Oh, so we were going with strange blood magic! 

"I imagine this is different than 'blood magic'." 

"Blood carries power, strength, knowledge. Mages have never been the only ones who can channel it." That was true, but they certainly were the most famous. "Through it, all the power that is held in the Ashes will be returned to our Lady!" 

His group was grinning and bouncing, getting into the speech too. Well, so long as they focused on me, I didn't care. The others were almost past. "Is there a reason why you cannot do this yourself?" 

"The Guardian…" His voice dropped to a growl. Had I even gotten his name yet? "He foils all of our attempts! Keeps what power remains from the true Andraste!" I glanced at his weapon, a war-axe on his back, and noted how his muscles were stronger on the right than left. His left leg was stronger than his right, meaning he would often charge, putting most force on his left leg. "We cannot touch him, for he draws his strength from the Ashes themselves." He grinned at me, and I focused back on his face. "But you… you are a stranger. You could deliver our Lady what is rightfully Hers." I got the feeling he had forgotten I had said 'we' before. "Fear not, though. We can give you the strength to combat the Guardian." What. "You were led here by Andraste's hand to do Her work. Why else would you have survived the temple, and Her kin?" I was definitely missing something. "Come, drink with us." What. 

I just smiled and nodded, not even capable of thinking of a reply as the man (I seriously didn't think I gotten his name) took a vial from his pocket, and mixed it in a chalice someone had produced. I kept the smile on my face, and sipped it slowly. I had survived the Joining, and it wouldn't be the first time I had been poisoned, so I just had to distract them just a bit longer. 

Still, if this was alcohol, it was no alcohol I had ever tasted. It was almost sickeningly sweet, but the undertone of ash made it linger in my poor mouth. I might have deadened my tongue. I felt a buzzing in my teeth, my pulse hammering in my ears. Yeah, I probably was just poisoned. Ah, Elspeth was going to be mad… 

"And now, the final piece." The man pulled out a horn and blew it, the call echoing through the mountains. Then I heard a rumble, a shaking. The weak sunlight was engulfed in shadow, and I could only stare in shock when I saw what had blocked the light. 

WHAT WAS A HIGH DRAGON DOING HERE?! 

"Here we are…! Our Lady!" They… thought Andraste… had reincarnated… into a dragon. They were, essentially, a dragon-worshiping cult, not unlike the Tevinter Imperium that killed Andraste in the first place. That… that… That was almost too hilarious. "From her, we will give you the strength of a thousand generations!" What? "Wait, who are those three?" I had little doubts that the others had been so startled that they forgot to hide. I couldn't blame them. "To arms, my brothers and sisters! Andraste will grant us-!" 

"If Andraste really sent me, it was to stop you." I drew my sword and struck quickly. My first target was his left leg, so that he couldn't charge as he was used to. My second target was his right arm, to remove his best hand. "This ends here," I whispered as he stared at me in shock. "My name is Nuada Cousland, if you need to give the Maker the name of your killer." 

I decapitated him, taking advantage of the shock, and jumped back as the others unleashed arrows. A wave of fire, however, took care of them easily, and I glanced back to see the others approaching. I was very appreciative we didn't have to deal with fighting humans when a dragon was glaring at us. 

"So, do we run?" Elspeth asked as soon as she was close enough. She eyed the dragon warily. "I don't like the idea of fighting a high dragon with four people, considering the trouble a younger and weaker one gave six of us trouble." 

"Is the dragon going to give us a choice, dear sister?" I retorted instantly. It was definitely snaring at us. "Alistair, why don't you seduce it like you did the dragonlings?" 

"I don't even know how I did that!" Alistair instantly retorted. He had his weapons palmed. "Also, I think it is about to crush us. High Dragons are no jokes, that's for sure." 

"Crowd around!" Layla ordered. She brought up a barrier as the dragon tried to swipe at us. It cracked under the force, but we were fine. "I… really need to learn better shielding." 

"Then it's time to scatter." And we did, sliding in the snow and ice as we tried to get proper footing. 

I ended up right in front of it, and held absolutely still as it stared at me. It suddenly lunged, teeth snapping as I turned. An arrow caught it in its left eye, and I smiled. Elspeth was as accurate as always. Now, what sort of dragon was this? There were different types, and each had their strengths and weaknesses… 

Well, that might be the first thing to figure out. What were this dragon's elemental weaknesses? Though, give where we were, I had a pretty good idea just what we were dealing with. I would seriously need to write Lord Ferdinand a thank you note. 

Her tail swung, knocking down some ruins. A scream made me glance over, and I realized it had knocked over a pillar Elspeth had been on, but she easily jumped down and escaped the rubble. 

"Alistair, take the left side!" I ordered. If this was what I thought, then… "We're going to break the legs, okay?" If we broke the legs, then the wing joints would be more easily exposed. "Layla, if you can remind me what spells you kn… hello!" I dodged the dragon's claw, and swung, aiming for the joints. As I thought it would, the blade slid in easily, and I must have caught some important artery as blood spurted from the injury, catching me in the face. "Oh, ugh…" I swallowed some by accident. "Dragon blood tastes…" I meant to say 'disgusting'. I knew I did. But… I couldn't… do… anything…? 

Something clanged to the ground as I crashed to my knees, clawing at my throat as I tried to get rid of this burning feeling crawling down. Breaking. I was breaking. I was shattering. I was burning to ash. I couldn't breath. I couldn't even see. Everything was burning. I _was_ the flames. I was breaking. I was shattering. 

"Nuada!" I heard someone. I tried to shift through the ashes of my thoughts for a name. A… ali… Alistair? Was that it? "Layla, Nuada's down!" I smelled fire, smoke, a burning not within, but without. It didn't reach me, though. The heat would have been comforting. "I think my shield has a hole in it now." 

"Get it away from him so I can check!" I heard a kind voice snap the order, and felt small hands roll me over. I had fully hit the ground without realizing it. Everything was spinning, blackening and coloring. Everything was far too sharp, and far too dull. "Nuada!" I closed my eyes, wondering if the burning would crack my eyes and destroy them. It felt like everything else was splitting into pieces. "Nuada!" I couldn't… even think of who this was… 

That wasn't good. There was… a danger. There was some sort of danger. I could drag that from the ashes. There was a danger, and there was duty, and that meant I had only one path. 

"Tell me what's going on," I breathed. The words burned. They wavered, threatening to blow away in the wind. "What is…?" I coughed, violently enough to make me wonder if my lungs were _gone_. Something wet dripped down my chin. I thought it was blood. 

"Nuada, are you serious? You are in-" 

"Tell me, please…" I couldn't see. I couldn't breath. Everything was breaking, breaking. Was I dying? I think I was. But I am a Cousland. I died doing duty, and nothing more. "Please…" 

"Why can you not just worry about yourself?" I heard a sigh, and blessedly cool hands resting on my face. "Elspeth and Alistair are fighting a high dragon. I am taking care of-" 

"How do you fight?" I couldn't think. Everything was ash. "How do they…?" Elspeth… was my twin. I would always know her. Who was Alistair again? Who was this person again? I only could think of how much I trusted, and adored, them both. 

"You are in so much pain you cannot even remember and yet…!" I heard so much frustration in the voice. "I am a mage. Elspeth is an archer, and Alistair wields swords and shields like you." 

"Can you ice their weapons?" 

"Yes, I can." I felt the cold crackle over my skin. It felt nice. "Will that help?" 

"The High Dragon is likely a Fereldan Frostback." I dug through the ashes for anything and everything I knew about tactics, about dragons. If I am dying, I would die helping. "They are extremely vulnerable to cold." What else was there…? "They have weak joints, prone to snapping if you make them turn to much. An arrow to the wing joint is enough to cripple it long enough for someone to climb up. There's-" 

"Nuada, will you just shut up and-" 

"There's a soft spot on the back of the head. If you hit it at the right angle, you're server the spine." I couldn't breath. Was I suffocating? "The eyes are weak." 

"Elspeth already took out the left eye?" Did she? I can always count on her. "You… you just ramble. I'll shout it for them." 

"Thank you…" It was so hard to breath. Everything just seemed to slow, but I couldn't even shift through the ashes for thoughts. 

But, still, I dragged up whatever I could think of. All the information I knew, I gave to the kind voice who gently stroked my head and held my hand. Whoever it was shouted it to the other two, leaving me free to just do everything I could to think and breath. 

When I heard the dragon's dying shriek, I felt like a wave slammed into me, dragging me down into the depths. And everything went black, and I couldn't pretend to think anymore. 

* * *

There was a stone digging into my back. It was a tiny thing, but it felt massive. That was the first thing I noticed as I slowly dragged myself from sleep. It was horribly cold, but some blankets were tucked around me. A pile of clothes served as my pillow. The last time I had felt this bad… it had been after that Crow-nurse almost killed me. 

"Nuada?" Layla's shaky voice caught my ear. "Nuada, are you awake?" 

"No," I groaned. But I managed to open my eyes, and blink slowly until the patch of blurs focused into Layla. She looked so pale, and so scared. "Well, I could get used to waking up to such a beautiful sight." 

"Good morning to you too." She managed a shaky smile before bursting into tears, covering her face with her hands. "Thank the Maker! You're awake!" 

"Yes, I'm awake." I wiggled out an arm from the blankets and cupped her face. She brought down her hands and I brushed my thumb over her cheek to try and wipe away the tears. "I don't remember much. Are you three okay?" 

"Yes, we're fine." She gripped my hand tightly, keeping it on her face. I noticed I had strange scars on my arms. They almost looked like scales. "Your strategy worked." That was less a 'strategy' and more 'calling out the weaknesses'. "Alistair dealt the final blow, in that spot you mentioned. The High Dragon is dead. We are not." I breathed a sigh of relief and started coughing. Everything hurt… and was there blood in my mouth? "Nuada?" She was hovering over me again. "Are you coughing up blood again?" 

"No, I think I bit the inside of my mouth." As I talked, I sometimes heard a lisp. That seemed… odd. "…Layla. Do I look any different? I've noticed the scarring on my arms." 

"…Your canine teeth sharpened." That would explain it. I kept cutting the inside of my mouth on them. "Your… good eye also changed color." It did? "It is a silver color, not unlike the dragon's." That seemed… Well, that was weird. "There's… also a tattoo on your back?" 

"I had that done at Redcliffe." 

"Oh. It looks nice." 

"I will have to thank Zevran again, then." She laughed a little and I smiled. "That it?" 

"That is it, as far as I know. I intend on giving you numerous checks, though, just in case." 

I nodded, accepting that. She still looked so pale and scared, so I thought to change the subject to something I hoped would be more innocent. "So, why am I shirtless?" Her face crumpled into tears again, though, so I knew I made a mistake. "Did I get injured there?" 

"…Your heart stopped." Oh. "I had to jolt it back with some electricity magic." That… had to have been terrifying. "You were also coughing, and vomiting blood." Well, that was… huh. "You had better apologize to Elspeth. She was sobbing." I could imagine. "Well, she did after chasing down some of the cultists. We saw them in the trees and she just went after them, like a wolf after a rabbit!" 

"Yeah, Elspeth has a bit of a temper." I laughed a little. "I'm told it's a Cousland trait. Fergus has a bad one too, and Father… well, you wanted to run if you managed to make him snap." 

"I fear for Oren." Ha! "Now, how are you feeling? You almost died." 

"Well, I ache a lot, but considering everything, it's probably a good thing I can feel." I made to remove my hand from her face, but she tightened her grip on it instead. "Layla?" 

"Please, just…" Her voice shook a little. "Just let me?" …Well, I couldn't deny I liked her holding my hand. 

"So, where are Alistair and Elspeth now?" A subject change seemed like a good idea. 

"They went exploring. We found the entrance to the building near here." So, whenever I got better, we could just keep going. "We are in some ruins. The dragon nested not too far from here." I had heard dragons nested in ruins and caves. "Oh, welcome back, you two! Nuada is awake!" 

"Nuada!" There was Elspeth, crashing down on my other side. Her hair was falling out of her braid, and I could see how red-rimmed her eyes were. "You idiot," she scolded. "You should know better than to drink strange things." 

"I was just fine until I swallowed the dragon blood," I retorted instantly. She rolled her eyes and smiled softly. "By the way, don't drink it. It tastes _horrible_." 

"Was it worse than rabbit?" 

"It was _way_ worse." 

"Why would that even come up?" Alistair knelt down next to Layla, and I knew it was so it was easier for me to see all of them. "Thank you so much for the heart attack," he told me with a little smile. "I think I'm going gray now." 

"The silver will look good on you," I deadpanned. He laughed. "So, I heard my delightful twin hunted some cultists for me?" 

"Yeah, and she killed a bunch with some bombs. We lost some trees." I gave Elspeth a look, and she glanced away sheepishly, flushing from mortification. "It was cool, but I might have been angry myself." Ha… "She did catch and question one though." Oh? 

"Do you remember the stories of reavers, Nuada?" she asked me. I nodded, vaguely remembering it. I mostly remembered Mother telling Fergus she'd ground him forever if he became one. "Be glad Mother isn't around to deliver on her threats. You're a reaver now." _That_ was the process to become a reaver? 

"So, that's what happened," I sighed. Well, hopefully Mother wouldn't scream at me from beyond the grave. It wasn't like I had chosen to become one. "All right, now that I have answers…" I tried to push myself up, and immediately the world spun. "…I… need to rest some more." It hurt to admit. I should keep going. That was what a Cousland did, and we had a duty. I also just _hated_ being laid up, and hated holding the group back even more. 

"I would have yelled if you tried to get up," Layla told me. Her smile was sweet, and I noticed she still had not let go of my hand. "Here, try to get some soup into you." My stomach protested the thought, even as Alistair and Elspeth disappeared from my view, likely getting that soup. "It will be good for you." 

"I'm sure." But, even as I steeled myself for a soup that would likely make my stomach rebel, I came to an uncomfortable thought. I didn't want soup. I wanted raw meat. 

Well, this was… going to be interesting? 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And Nuada is a Reaver, hopefully in a way you didn't quite expect. It is mentioned in Inquisition codexes that becoming a Reaver is a REALLY painful process, and in the Origins cutscene you faint, so I detailed it here as such. And some other changes, based on what Cassandra says to a Reaver!Inquisitor.   
>  Ferdinand is an actual character, though he's only really known through the codex and the like for now. Like his brother, he is childless, which is why there's a succession crisis on the horizon in Nevarra. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Detour with Cleon 


	78. Chapter 68) Memories of a Golem

Chapter 68) Memories of a Golem 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Isn't this beautiful?" Lyna laughed. We had separated from the Clan because she had decided to chase a butterfly. And, well, it did lead us to a beautiful meadow. "How perfect…"_

_"Think it's worth whatever punishment we're getting?" I asked dryly. Still, I sprawled out in the grass, staring up at the clear, clear sky framed perfectly by blossoming trees. "It's like it's its own world."_

_"A place untouched by time." Lyna flopped down too, head next to mine, but feet pointing the opposite direction. "How wondrous. I wonder what stories the flowers can tell?"_

_"Who knows?" I smirked. "But maybe they're chatting about two more da'len who are going to get a lecture that would cow the Dread Wolf into submission from Keeper Marethari."_

_"Ahahahaha!"_

* * *

Everything was silent. And no, not just because I couldn't hear. I could tell everyone was quiet, because their mouths were thinned lines and their hands didn't move. And I knew why. They were tired. Everyone was tired. I could see by how their shoulders slumped, and how their feet dragged, just how exhausted they were. I was actually carrying Morrigan on my back after a bit of stumbling had resulted in a twisted ankle Wynne was too exhausted to heal. She fell asleep, little vibrations on my shoulder and neck hinting she was mumbling in her sleep again. 

It made me think of Aiden's words. I was… relatively… certain that my relation with her was just physical. I did not bond with her as I did Merrill. But, then again, didn't that make sense? Morrigan was a different person. Even _if_ I was falling in love, it would feel different, even if it was just as romantic. However, I could not deny that I still loved Merrill, dearly. It hurt to be separated from her. 

But, then again, who demanded that a person could not love more than one person? Who decided that? It was okay, right? I mean; I shouldn't hide it or anything. Or maybe it was bad… ugh, I don't know anymore. Dread Wolf, take these thoughts. I'd curse Aiden for putting them in my head, except our lives were cursed enough with bad luck. 

Shaking my head, I focused continued to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. One step at a time, keep moving forward. Oghren would pause every once in a while, looking back down the path. I wondered if he was thinking about… everything. Hespith, that broodmother dwarf I never got the name for, Branka. Branka… her death haunted me. I still could never forgive her for what she did. I still felt she was a monster, a true monster. 

But all monsters start from somewhere. All monsters start from a single idea, a single thought, that becomes an obsession. And I could have saved her. I had her hand. Then I didn't, and she smiled. And died, by jumping into lava. 

Regardless of how I felt about her, it hurt to not be able to save someone even when I tried. It reminded me of Tamlen. I had him too. I had him by the arm, the hand, and had tried to drag him to safety. But then he was ripped away, and he died. He died, without his body even buried. 

A burst of pain knocked me from my thoughts. My nose stung as I blinked slowly, trying to figure out what happened. Had I run into the wall somehow? I was staring at stone. Wait, no, I had run into Shale. It had stopped in the middle of the path, focused on a side-path I only saw because I was wondering what it was staring at. 

Noticing no one was stopping, I quickly nudged the closest person, Sten, and nodded to Shale. He said something to catch everyone's attention and slowly everyone stumbled to a stop. And, even though everyone did their best to smile, I could tell they were all thinking 'what went wrong _this_ time?' by how strained those smiles were, and how tense they held themselves. 

'I have been thinking on what Caridin said,' Shale explained. Sten signed for me, and I assumed someone had actually asked what was wrong. 'And I just realized I know this location. There is a thaig down the path here.' Okay? 'Might we… go see it?' What. 

'A thaig?' Aiden asked, signing slowly. He was slowly becoming more stoic, and I wondered if he was taking lessons from Elspeth. 'What thaig?' 

'I… think it might be Cadash Thaig.' Was that not where Shale was… oh, Creators. 

Biting back a sigh, Aiden and I shared a look. Even if we were bone-tired, there was only one answer to the golem who was stuck with us. Aiden and I shared a look. Really, there was only one answer. 'Yeah, let's go.' 

* * *

I gasped when I saw the thaig. The thaig proper, not the surprisingly well-kept tunnels that we had to walk through to reach it. I jostled Morrigan awake so she could see it to. It was… absolutely… amazing. 

'This is it.' Leliana signed for me as Shale rested a gentle hand on one of the buildings. 'Cadash Thaig'. Well, she used the sign for 'Shale', but the name of the thaig had been spelled out for me earlier. 'I… remember it.' Leliana paused between the words, to show how Shale was… awe-struck. Likely by remembering. 'I was found here, by the mage. I had… run here, angry over something.' I wondered if she had run here after Caridin chased her away. 'It had been darker then.' Well, now it wasn't. There was sunlight. _Sunlight_. In fact, we were standing in a patch of it! It was weak, but after who knew how long without the sun, I couldn't help but smile. I felt better already. 

Some stirring on my back told me Morrigan had finally gotten around to waking up, and her hands came up to sign, 'where are we? What did you all do, get lost?' 

'We are looking into something for Shale,' Wynne replied easily, signing lightly. She was smiling, though, a surprise. She and Morrigan rarely smiled at each other. 'I see some medicinal herbs, actually, that will be good for your swelling. Let's sit you down on the stairs here.' 

'If you must.' I felt her sigh against my neck as Zevran and I got her off my back and sitting onto the steps. It looked like they had led to a house at some point. 'So, what are we doing?' 

'I think we are admiring the beauty of the place,' Zevran signed. It wasn't even a joke. This place looked as pretty as anything I'd see on the surface. 'And enjoying the rest.' Because we were the only souls here. I couldn't see signs of anything, not even critters. 

'While Shale is trying to find things to help its memory, the rest of us are going to wander and make sure things really are as safe as they seem,' Aiden signed. He waved to catch our attention before signing the words again, just to be certain. 'I am not trusting the calm.' Nope. Because since when are we lucky? 'Make noise if you find something. Cleon, bash something.' I nodded, a little pleased they were going to let me scout alone. I was aware that could be dangerous without my hearing, but it was still nice to be treated as fully competent. I was still adapting, after all. 'Have fun, everyone.' 

Smiling and nodding, we split up, Wynne and Morrigan remaining at the stairs as Wynne tended to her ankle. I took a path lined with moss, feeling how soft it was under my hand. I almost took off my boots, but decided against it. I had no idea what was _under_ the moss. As I walked, I did start to notice signs of other creatures. Droppings, half-eaten carcasses, little nests. No signs of the creatures themselves, so I wondered if they had hidden when we arrived. I liked that. It would be so wasteful to attack creatures defending their homes. Anduril would be mad. 

My feet eventually took me to something that almost looked like a meadow, fed by the surprisingly clear water of the nearby river. Sunlight filtered down here too, so flowers bloomed. After checking to make sure there was no danger, I sat down in the moss, back resting against the wall of a little alcove, and just… let myself relax. If I closed my eyes, focused on the scents, I could pretend I was in the Brecilian Forest, dozing as I waited for Lyna, Tamlen, and Merrill to join me for… something. Of course, I would catch smells of blood, ground deep into the rock, and just this general dampness that you could not find in a forest. But the mental image was good. It reminded me of where I started. It reminded me of the good times I was fighting to protect. It reminded me of my path, as winding and hard as it was. 

It was a good mental image. It reminded me of _how_ to move forward. 

Opening my eyes, I tilted my head to stretch out my neck and then started to pick the flowers nearby. A flower crown for Morrigan, a flower crown for Wynne, a flower crown for Leliana. Like I was a da'len again. I made one for Zevran, just to see his reaction. I picked one for Shale, because I thought it might give me a weird look with a full crown. A flower for Oghren, in memorial for his losses. A flower for Sten, just for his reaction. A flower for Aiden, as a reminder of what we fought for. Flowers for the others, who were hopefully having some luck with those weird ashes, to be carefully pressed and dried, so that they were not forgotten. 

As I went to pick one last flower, one for me to remind me of beauty in surprising places, my hands found a patch of roughened rock. I followed the lines of it to find it was a carving, and I stilled when I realized what it was. Mythal. It was a carving of Mythal, as I had seen in ancient ruins. What was this? Why was this here? Why would Mythal be here? 

Carefully, I brushed away some of the moss and dirt, studying the carvings. I saw in it a story I had seen before: Mythal striking down giants who made the earth rumble and quake. Not far from it was a depiction of an elf and a dwarf, the dwarf looking tall and protective of the small and frail elf. Close by was a carving I had also seen before: the Fall of Arlathan. Had this thaig once been a refuge to my people? But did not dwarves have an alliance with the Imperium? Did they give refuge anyway? 

A vibration in the group caught my attention, and I turned to see what had caused it. I saw it was Wynne, waiting patiently until I nodded before approaching. 'We found something on the hill up here,' she signed, pointing to the hill when she finished. I nodded and straightened, finding the crown I made for her and placing it on her head. 'For me?' Her smile was warm and cheerful. 'Thank you, Cleon. I'll treasure it.' I simply smiled back, glad that she like it. 'Here, let me help you carry the rest.' 

'Careful, some of these are for the ones not here.' I quickly separated everything out, signing to her who got what. I ended up carrying the crowns. I was too worried they'd be crushed! 

So, instead, I held them cautiously as Wynne led the way up the hill to where the others were. When there, I just went around and plopped the crowns on their recipients' heads. Morrigan looked startled, Leliana laughed, and Zevran went so far as to pose dramatically to make us all laugh. With Wynne's help, I passed out the single flowers. As I expected, Sten gave me the best 'What in the Creators' name is this for?' look that just made me grin. 

Shale, sadly, didn't really react to the flower, even with Leliana got on a rock and the tips of her toes to tuck it neatly into Shale's collar. But, then again, Shale's attention was decidedly elsewhere. It took me a second to figure out what. There, hidden among the moss, was a stone, much like the registry we found by the Anvil. The writing was still sharp and clear, though, as if it had been carved just yesterday. Dates and names. I couldn't really understand either. 

But Shale did. I could tell by how its eyes widened. 'I know this…' it murmured. Wynne signed for me, her eyes shining. 'This was erected to honor those who volunteered, those who became golems. I had just seen its completion before…' Shale's finger fell onto one name. 'Shayle of House Cadash. This is me. Just as Caridin said.' The sign for Caridin was 'atoner'. I thought it fit. 'I… remember her, now. Mostly. I remember Shayle of House Cadash.' Wynne took my hand to spell out the name. I found it _hilarious_ how appropriate the name was. 'I remember she was me.' 

'That is wonderful, Shale!' Leliana laughed, signs light and dancing. They matched the good cheer in her eyes. 

'Wonderful to remember being a soft, squishy creature of flesh?' I had to bite back my grin. I saw Zevran laugh, tossing his head back from the force. Even _Sten_ smiled. 'Perhaps.' Shayle fell silent for a moment. 'I… want to thank it.' It turned to us, eyes focused on Aiden and me. 'It gave Caridin the end he wanted. I am… pleased to have been a part of it.' Oh, right. If Shale remembered being Shayle, then it remembered Caridin. 'I have much to think on. There was… is… a great deal to absorb." Right, Shale was over a thousand years… old… oh, wow, that was _old_. Looked great for the age, though! 'But I do have a request.' Another one? 'Let me head back and gather the golems.' …WHAT?! 'Even if the Anvil is gone, and Caridin is dead, they remain. _We_ remain.' Wynne sighed the sentence twice. The signs were strong and certain, and I knew that reflected Shale's tone. I could see by its eyes. 'I will go to them. I will convince them to fight for it… you.' Did… did I just read those signs right?! 

'Are you certain?' Aiden asked. His wide eyes and dropped jaw showed his shock. It actually took him a few fumbles to make the proper signs. 'I mean…' 

'We are warriors who made a sacrifice. I do not regret it, despite the pain.' Shale… 'But we fought against the Blight before. Why should we not do so now?' I thought I saw it smile. 'I will not force, though. You might just get me.' 

'We are honored to have you, Shale.' And Aiden smiled. 'All right. Meet us in the Quarter?' 

'Have fun with the annoying ones. Try not to splatter their brains too much.' That… shouldn't be funny. But it was. 

So, with all of this chaos, we possibly were getting golems? I could live with that. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: And here is Shale's personal quest, only available after visiting the Anvil of the Void. I removed the darkspawn just to have some mercy on the poor characters. They've fought enough during this little quest line. As for the golems… why not? It seemed like fun. Something to reward the chars for going through so much hell. 
> 
> The codex entry for Shale states that she became a golem 'three-hundred' years ago after completing this quest, but this is impossible since the Anvil hasn't been used for over a thousand. 
> 
> As for Cleon finding some elven stuff, Witch Hunt reveals that the thaig was built ontop of another settlement, Cad'halash, which gave shelter to elves fleeing Arlathan's fall. That said, I added a couple of things found through Trespasser DLC (and the Descent DLC). 
> 
> Next Chapter – Sacred Ashes with Layla 


	79. Chapter 69) Trials of the Just

Chapter 69) Trials of the Just 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_I sat at the base of Andraste's statue in the Chantry, just staring at it. Today's sermon talked about her death, and I wondered if she was scared as she burned. Fire was scary and strong. It warmed from a distance, and burned at a touch. She must have been so, so scared."_

_"Oh, there you are, Layla." I looked up at Elthina's voice, and smiled at her. "Come now," she urged gently, offering her hand. "Your parents are worried about you."_

_"Okay."_

* * *

I would have preferred it if Nuada rested longer, but he insisted on keeping on going when he could actually stand without experiencing dizziness. I hoped we wouldn't have any more fights, though. He moved slowly and stiffly, like his body was suddenly too small for him. He smiled warmly whenever I glanced at him worriedly, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was just trying to be brave. 

I also really worried about his heart. Yes, I had jumpstarted it with electricity, but… but maybe it would have been better if I had used blood magic to… then again, I did not even know if that would work. I _knew_ the electricity method had a chance of working; it was part of a Spirit Healer's standard repertoire to get just enough life in the body for a healing spell to take. I didn't know of any long-term side effects, but… but… 

My thoughts clunked to a stop as we actually entered the building, and I realized it was actually _warm_. It felt like ages since I had been warm, and I had a better tolerance to temperature extremes. 

Slowly, and silently, the four of us looked around the room. It seemed decidedly more intact than the rest of the place, and there were even shelves of books not far away. But what caught, and held, my attention was the armored man standing in front of a door, waiting patiently as we cautiously approached. 

"I bid you welcome," he greeted us as we stopped in front of him. There was… something odd about the man. I was reminded of Garahel, in the Fade. But surely, that had to be a mistake, right? "I am the Guardian, protector of the Urn of Sacred Ashes." The four of us exchanged incredulous, and giddy, looks. We… we actually found it! "I have waited years for this." …Huh? 

"Please tell me we're not about to hear something about fates and prophecies," Nuada sighed. Though he was not too tired to put on a brave face, he clearly did not feel like being polite. "I'm sorry, but I prefer thinking that my path is my own." 

"I understand that mentality well." The Guardian nodded. "Fear not. I merely have been waiting for brave souls to find the Lady again, and to put an end to the farce outside." Was he talking about the people who worshipped the dragon? "It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the way for the faithful. With your coming, my duty is finally at an end, and I can rest and speak to Her once more." …Wait a second. Was he implying what I thought he was implying? 

"You… are one of the original disciples?" I asked hesitantly. He nodded. "You fought…" 

"I and my brethren carried Andraste's ashes here, and so we stayed, guarding her resting place." This… might be the weirdest thing we had encountered? Yes, there was Garahel, but that was the _Fade_ , where weird things were supposed to happen. This was not the Fade! 

"Glad to know I didn't accidentally kill Andraste again," Alistair _immediately_ joked. I think he wanted to lighten the mood, since all four of us were just staring. This was _definitely_ the weirdest thing we had encountered. That was _saying a great deal_. "Wait, I didn't, right?" 

"Fear not," the Guardian reassured. He even smiled slightly. "Andraste has gone to the Maker's side. She will not return, as per the rules of reality. Necromancy exists, but to resurrect the dead, with their true soul, is to walk the Maker's territory." Could you imagine the chaos? Could you imagine the _strain_ on the land? People were already going hungry! "The dragon was a fearsome creature, a glorious alternative to the absent Maker, and silent Andraste." Their faith faltered, and so they seized anything that could make the long years worth it. I could understand that. "A true believer would not require such audacious displays of power." 

"That reminds me of a book I read," Elspeth murmured. She looked rather thoughtful. "It was a dissertation on why the Old Gods of Tevinter were not truly gods at all. There was a line that stood out. Someone, who goes out of their way to call themself a god, is probably not one at all, but rather someone with an inferiority complex, fully aware there is someone of greater power and knowledge." She frowned a little. "I am afraid I can't remember the full paper, though. I read it a few years ago." She… actually seemed frustrated at herself for not being able to remember. "Ah, my apologies for the change interruption." Ah, right! 

"You seek the Ashes, and you shall see them." I… could already hear the 'but' coming. "If you prove worthy." There it was. "The Gauntlet shall decide." Why was it never easy? "The way is open." The doors behind him suddenly creaked open. "Now, you four shall-" 

"I think Elspeth and I are actually going to stay out here, if you don't mind," Nuada interrupted. He and Elspeth exchanged a look that seemed to convey entire conversations before nodding. "Yeah, we are going to stay out here. If you're not comfortable, we can camp out outside." Alistair and I exchanged an incredulous look. It wasn't really like them to stay back? I could only think of one time they had: when Zevran attacked and they had judged their presence as more damaging that helpful. 

"Ah, you wish to remain behind because you both dislike the Chant and Chantry," the Guardian whispered. I saw both Nuada and Elspeth lock up. That told me it was true, more than anything. "The betrayals and losses you have suffered weakened what little faith you had." I thought of the first visit to Redcliffe, when Elspeth actually snapped about the Maker's will and Highever's fall. "You do not need to worry. The strength of one's faith is not a testament to worthiness to view her Ashes. Not all of the faithful believed in the beginning." 

"That is kind of you, and Your Lady." Nuada's voice was kind and friendly, and his smile charming, but I could tell the difference between this 'mask' and his real self. Elspeth was all but a statue next to him, and I was reminded of how they had been immediately after Highever fell. I had not seen them act like this in… a long while. The Guardian had hit a nerve, and neither of them would forgive him for it. "But I am still recovering regardless." 

"Ah, yes, you took in the blood and power of the false Andraste." The Guardian nodded. "There is a sideroom here for you to rest." I thought I saw a smile. "There might even be pillows." 

"I'm so spoiled." He waved to Alistair and me. "Safe travels. If something goes wrong, scream. I promise Elspeth and I will come running." 

"Please, just rest for once," I scolded. He laughed a little, relaxing slightly. I was glad to hear his real laugh. I loved the sound. "I am _most_ serious." 

"I promise. I will be resting, providing no cultists come in to attack." 

"Even if they do, they shall not make it past me," the Guardian reassured. He was definitely smiling this time, kind and gentle. It reminded me of Irving's. "Go forward, then, you two. Your friends shall be safe here." 

Despite the reassurance, I honestly did not really like it. It was not often we could depend on anyone else for… well… anything. But when I glanced at Nuada and Elspeth, they both nodded reassuringly, Elspeth's mask cracking enough to smile gently. So, I nodded back, shared a determined smile with Alistair, and headed for the door. 

However, as soon as we stepped through, and the door shut behind us, I found myself absolutely alone, separated from Alistair. This… reminded me of the Fade. 

Andraste, can you _not_ have a little mercy on us for once?! 

* * *

I… was quite confused by how riddles proved one's worthiness to view the Sacred Ashes? I got them all right, and passed through the room without much trouble, but it truly confused me. I also could not help but remember the Sloth demon from my Harrowing as I answered each one, who gave me riddles to go around a fight. Was it similar? Was it different? It was an unnerving thought to have in this sort of place. 

Sighing, I continued walking forward. There was not really any other place to _go_ , and I still had no idea where Alistair was. Could not the Guardian have warned us a bit? Surely, it would not have impacted our worthiness to know what was coming? 

Sighing, again, I noticed something strange in front of me. It took me a couple of blinks to realize it was my reflection, so I must be looking at a mirror. Why was there a mirror in the hallway? 

I tilted my head to the side, staring curiously, and my reflection mimicked me. …Of course it did; it was a reflection. That was what reflections _did_. I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity, and laughed a little with 'it' did the same. I was really out of it, to be so amused by a mirror. I smiled, though, the cheer myself up, and the 'me' in the mirror smiled back, just as cheerfully. 

I reached up a hand to wave goodbye; I intended to look for the way around. My reflection reached up a hand to cast a spell; it intended to kill me. 

I yelped and ducked under the spell, rolling a bit. Despite moving _past_ the 'reflection', I did not hit anything solid. Okay, there was no mirror. I was… I was looking at a shade that had taken on my appearance. This… this… 

This was really, really weird! 

I cast a bit of ice magic, mostly to buy me some time, and my 'reflection' countered with an ice spell of its own, giant icicles that shattered when they got close to me, biting into my skin. I rolled out of the way, and healed myself up. Then I saw something crimson flash towards me and rolled out of the way again. It took me a second to realize what it had been: daggers made of blood, my blood. 

Jaw dropping, I stared at the reflection and saw the crimson mist that symbolized blood magic floating and spiraling around it. It had… used my blood. It used blood magic. The smug smirk reminded me of Uldred's and I just went cold. Was… was this Andraste's way of saying she was mad I took up the magic? Was She mad that I had not had faith and taken the long way? 

N-no, that… well, it could be it. But all the stories I heard of Andraste… they made me think she would not have minded. I took up blood magic to save a child. I wanted to believe that was the right choice. I wanted to believe it was not a _wrong_ choice. 

So, maybe, this was not a punishment, but a test. The Gauntlet was a test of worthiness. This part… this part was showing me who I _could_ be, and was testing who I _would_ be. Would I be a mage who relied on blood magic, a mage who stole her enemies' blood without care or caution? Would I be a mage who fought the way she grew up being taught, a mage who fought with fire and ice? 

Personally, after everything I saw, I thought I could only be something different. I needed to solidify my courage to _be_ that different something, if I was ever going to move forward! 

It sent daggers of crystallized blood my way again, but this time, I did not dodge. Instead, I reached into the Warrior's Memories, and found the technique I needed. Then, I Shifted into the Fade, letting the daggers pass _through_ me. I popped back almost instantly, with a little grimace. Since I was a 'normal' mage, and not a 'warrior' mage, I could not remain 'in-between' for long. But that little bit was long enough to throw off my 'reflection', and I lunged. I called upon the power of the Arcane Warrior again, for the first time since I accidentally did it in Highever Castle. I felt the magic twist onto my skin, like vines on a tree, and felt my whole body hum in power. My rapier felt feather-light as I swung. One slash broke the half-formed barrier the 'reflection' had conjured up. I tucked my arm back and close as I faced the reflection side on, minimizing how much of me was a target, and then I lunged, tip of the rapier aimed right for the heart. I knew it was a heart-shot. I was a healer; I knew how the body was put together. Never did I think I would use that knowledge to take someone apart. 

Noticing the 'reflection' shift, I used my own blood magic, on my arm, to move my arm since I would not be able to react in time with my own muscles. With that, I struck true, running it through. It gasped, staring at me with wide-eyes. Then it screamed, because with a twist of mind, I set it aflame and ripped the rapier out of the charring body. 

Stumbling back, I let the power dissipate, and hunched over, hands on my knees as I struggled to breath. That… took a lot of stamina. I would need to work on that, if this was going to even be an 'uncommon' part of my fighting style. 

I groaned when I realized the fire and ashes of the 'reflection' were swirling about in the air, converging into another shape, and straightened bringing the rapier up in a ready position. But when it solidified, and took on features, the rapier fell from my nerveless hands. 

"Jowan…?" I breathed. The… the shade… person… thing… that looked like Jowan smiled at me. "N-no, you can't be… you're dead!" The words ripped from my throat. "You're dead! I killed you! And… and…!" I collapsed on my knees, bursting into tears. Was I going to have to kill him again?! Please… please, don't make me… 

I froze as warm arms wrapped around me. I knew this hug. This hug… had been there for me so many times over the years. This hug had been there when I was upset, when I was happy, when I was scared. "I am so sorry," Jowan whispered into my ear. I could only sob. I thought I would never hug him again. "It hurts growing up. I wish we didn't have to. I did… actually like it in the Circle. Our childhood in the Circle wasn't so bad. We had fun, and we laughed. Even if we were scared of the templars, scared of our magic, wasn't it fun?" Yes. Yes, it had been. "And no matter how jealous I was, I also admired you so much. I was so, so _proud_ of you. I couldn't wait for you to take your Harrowing, to shake up the Circle by being so kind yet so strong." 

"Jowan…" 

"I'm still here. I'll always be watching, being proud. I wish I could have thought of how to say all of this, right before the end." I could not stop crying. "You'll be fine. You're doing fine, Layla. Be happy. You're already strong." Biting back wails, I reached up to hug him. For one brief second, I felt the cloth of his robes, the warmness of his back, under my hands. 

Then he disappeared, a ghost in the wind, and I was stuck only hugging myself. I was alone again. 

I curled into myself, shaking and sobbing. Then, slowly, I made myself breath. I took a deep breath in, held it, and exhaled. I repeated the breathing pattern until the thickness in my throat eased, and I was left with only burning eyes and tearstained cheeks. 

Only when I did that did I let go of myself and push myself up. I rubbed roughly at my face, to remove the traces the tears, and walked through the door at the end of the hall. I just needed to keep moving forward. One step at a time. If I put my mind to it, if I combined my strength with my friends, I was unstoppable. 

Goodbye, Jowan. Thank you, for being my friend until the end. 

* * *

Why was there a disappearing bridge puzzle? Why had there been a disappearing bridge puzzle? Did Andraste only like the clever and/or lucky? I still did not know how I had solved it! 

"I see you made it through the weird bridge too?" I squeaked at the voice, drawing my weapon as my eyes darted around, ready for a threat. "Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you." I blinked slowly, and realized Alistair was in front of me. "Hey there, Lay-ACK!" I tackled him with a hug, uncaring of how I likely bruised myself on his armor. "Hey, hey, hey! I bruise easily!" he protested. Still, he hugged me back before long. "I guess you didn't have a much easier time going through." 

"It was… a gauntlet," I mumbled. I stepped back, and peered at his face. Like me, he had been crying. I could tell my how red his eyes were, and the lingering stains on his cheeks. "…I saw Jowan, and fought a blood mage version of me." 

"I saw Duncan." Ow… "And I fought… a version of me that kept running away." He sighed. "I'm not exactly liking myself right now." 

"That is fine. You just need to remember others like you." He smiled wryly, and I smiled back. "So, where are we?" 

"We are in a room of fire." He pointed for emphasis and I wondered if the huge fires lining the room were why this place was so warm. "But… well…" He pointed up to an altar. "There is also that." The two of us exchanged a look and a shrug before climbing up the stairs. I noticed the heat grew more intense as we got closer to the altar. Was this some sort of test too? If you braved the heat, then you were worthy? 

I supposed it did not really matter. Because, on the altar, there was a golden urn, sitting at the base of a woman's statue. I saw the flame flickering in her hand and swore it was magic. Was this Andraste? Was this someone who vowed to protect Andraste, and now her image guarded the urn? Who could say? 

"So, this is the Urn," Alistair whispered. He dug through his pack and produced a small pouch. "I kept a runic token in this, but it's lost in my pack somewhere, so it should be good for the ashes." I giggled a bit and accepted the pouch. Then, carefully, I removed the lid of the Urn, took a pinch of the Ashes, and placed them inside. "They feel different than normal ashes?" 

"Mmm…" I tied off the pouch and tucked it carefully into my own pack. Mine was much neater than his. "It did, in a way," I answered, replacing the lid. It was only polite, after all. "It reminds me of lyrium, but… stronger and safer?" 

"Then maybe it really will save Arl Eamon." We could only hope, at this point. "I think there's a very convenient door over there." Alistair pointed to a door half-hidden by the altar. "Shall we?" 

With a nod and a shrug, I headed to the door, Alistair following. The blast of cold told me it led outside, but it did not take long at all to find the entrance we had used before. The room was the same as before, but there was one key difference. There was no Guardian. He was gone. 

Slowly and cautiously, Alistair and I walked around the room, expecting him to pop out of nowhere. But nothing happened. It was silent. …Actually, it was far too silent, and now I was really worried for Nuada and Elspeth? 

"Layla," Alistair called as he poked his head into a sideroom. His voice was very soft, but he was smiling. "Over here." Carefully, I came over, and relaxed when I saw the inside of the room. _There_ were Nuada and Elspeth. They were curled up under a blanket together, fast asleep. 

"They must have grown tired of waiting," I murmured. The blanket was of very fine quality, and not something we had with us. Had it been in the room? The placement made it look more like someone had tucked them in _after_ they fell asleep, though, so I wondered if the Guardian had put it on them before disappearing. "Is it… creepy that I find this absolutely adorable?" They looked like little kids, perfectly content in their dreams. I couldn't help but smile. 

"Well, Layla, you and I can share in being creepers if it is?" He and I _did_ shared a grin. "Maybe we should look through those books I know you eyed when we first walked in and let them sleep a bit longer. It's going to be a hard ride back." 

"That does sound good." Besides, we _did_ succeed in finding the Ashes, when no one else did. I think we earned a little break. "Ah, we must not forget Brother Genetivi, though." 

"I'm sure he's _exactly_ where we left him." I could only hope so. "So, books?" 

"Yes." 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: So, the trials consist of three parts: riddles, shade, and mirror fight. I switched the order of the last two for… fun? Yeah, fun. The lyrium 'feel' to the Ashes comes from Oghren's dialogue if you brought him to the Ashes: he notes that there is a large lyrium node underneath, which may be a 'mundane' reason for why the ashes are blessed with miraculous powers. Or it could be that Andraste really is divine. It's up in the air. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Finishing up Orzammar with Aiden 


	80. Chapter 70) Crowning of a King

Chapter 70) Crowning of a King 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_Normally, elves wouldn't be allowed to be so close. But, really, I was only this close by accident. I'd had to run an errand and could not get out of the crowd in time. So, instead, I had one of the best views of King Cailan's coronation._

_I didn't really pay attention. He walked up some stairs, the Grand Cleric said some words, and then a crown was put on his head. It seemed so simple, but this was the start of a new chapter in Fereldan's history, and the closing of another._

_I really needed to get out of here before someone saw me._

* * *

We arrived in Ostagar and before we could even bullshit something with the throne, we were all but captured and shoved into some sideroom in the Assembly room to _be_ the deciding vote. Well, by 'we', I meant Cleon, Oghren, and me. Because the others showed 'preference'. Meaning this is all because we took the neutral route. Damn it, I chose to do that so that we _didn't_ get involved! 

I groaned again, glaring at the crown. The whole point of going into the Deep Roads had been to get a _paragon_ to be the deciding vote. Yet here we were. Being the deciding vote. Son of a tied down _bitch_ , we didn't even have to go into the Deep Roads. Though, it did end up being good for Shale, so I couldn't say it was _all_ bad… 

"So, Cleon," Oghren began. I brought my hands up automatically to translate for him, waving to make sure Cleon was looking at me. Instead of, you know, napping in the corner like a smart person like he had been. "I heard you became deaf after an attack." Cleon nodded, eyes narrowed slightly. "Then why don't you still talk?" I made the signs, and _then_ processed what he said. Uh… 

"…I… can still… talk…" Cleon replied, verbally. Even though it was slow, and I could tell he was doing his best, it still was hard to understand him. The words sounded flat, and almost mush. "But it is harder to understand me, since I cannot hear myself to adapt my voice." 

"…On the way back from the Brecilian Forest, none of us could figure out what he was saying," I explained, signing for Cleon. He nodded and settled back into his corner. I remember how frustrated he had been, and how much it had hurt. "Finally, Lady Elspeth got out a pen and paper from her pack. That way we could know what it was he was trying to say. Good thing too, because he was warning us that we were walking off a damn cliff." Cleon grinned, and I saw him relax. 

"So, he just chose to be quiet," Oghren summarized. He nodded. "Been wondering. Took forever for some warriors who lost their hearing to get used to not talking, and it hasn't been all that long for you." Cleon and I exchanged a look. It might not have been on a calendar, but it _felt_ much longer. I swear that I had aged ten years, at least, in… however long it had actually been. "So. King." Right, right… we couldn't delay forever. 

'You do it,' Cleon signed. I translated for him. 'Aiden and I know shit about either.' 

"As if they'll trust the decision of a drunk berserker that they threw to the side when the training they all praised came to the forefront at an inconvenient time." Oghren rolled his eyes. "Look, I'll give you a summary of both, and you can pick from there." I sighed and nodded. Cleon sat up a little straighter. "So, Harrowmont. Nice guy, more or less. If, you know, you're not casteless." I see. "Traditionalist, so he'll keep the status quo." Cleon and I exchanged a look. That matched the bits of rumors we heard before. "Now Bhelen… you hear the rumors. Killed his brother, framed his sister, killed his father. He's ambitious, ruthless, pragmatic. But he's also a revolutionary. Got big plans, like letting the casteless officially take up arms, more trade with the surface, that sort of thing." 

"So, the moral traditionalist or the ruthless revolutionary are our choices." I sighed, and glanced at Cleon again. He had his eyes closed, though, so I knew he was just thinking. "I'm guessing relatives of the rivals will die?" 

"Harrowmont might not do that, but Bhelen definitely will." Great… "But… ah… no, never mind." 

Cleon waved to catch my attention and I turned to him. 'Orzammar is going to _die_ if it keeps to its ways,' he signed. I sighed and nodded. I agreed. I didn't like it, but I agreed. 'I don't like how the surface ignores the plight they face anyway, but if they keep isolated, any attempts to help…' He threw up his hands and shrugged. I could fill in the rest. 

"Then we go with Bhelen." And condemn the family of Harrowmont just because he lost the fight for the crown. For the future of Orzammar, and the security of the alliance. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. "I wish we never came here. I don't like it here at all." Because while we got what we came for, there was no feeling of triumph here. Not like at the other places. 

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you did," Oghren admitted. He looked quite serious at us both, and it actually took me a second to remember to sign for Cleon because I was caught off-guard. "I got the answers I wanted. I don't like what I found. I hate how my hopes were dashed. But it's better than waiting and wondering, drowning what brain I have left in alcohol." Cleon and I shared a smile. Yeah, that… was nice to know. We helped Shale and Oghren. That would be good enough. "Let's hand the damn crown over, then." 

Right, here we go. I was going to regret this until I died, but I think I'd regret it _less_ and it would just have to do. "Let's go." 

* * *

"Truly, you were sent by the Ancestors to end the farce of an election, Warden Tabris." So. This was Bhelen. First time meeting him, and I was already ready to leave. "Without your aid, I would not have taken the throne so smoothly or quickly," he told me, smiling warmly. I half-wondered if he'd been planning on assassinating Harrowmont anyway. He just executed him in front of everyone and no one protested. Not even Harrowmont himself. Politics were stupid. "I have my generals preparing for a mission to the surface, to get a clearer picture of what is going on." Oh. 

"You work quickly," I murmured, making myself smile. No wonder Lady Elspeth defaulted to 'stone', and Lord Nuada smiled like an idiot half the time. The fake smile was the only way I was getting through this. I wished I was with the others, but nooooo, they managed to get out of talking to the new king. Something about giving things to the Shaperate or… well, Wynne had claimed there was a dwarf girl named Dagna who wanted to talk and Cleon went with her, but I think she was just making that up. I wished I could think of an excuse, but nope, I was stuck. "I am grateful." 

"You lost a lot of time here, more than I think you expected or wished." He shrugged. "It seemed only fair to make up for it." Huh. Maybe he wasn't _quite_ so bad? Maybe. Big maybe. "I will be sending my warriors looking for every able-bodied dwarf in Orzammar willing to fight." Every able… so, not just warrior caste? Oghren was right, then. "Though it does mean, sadly, that I think I am out of time." 

"I believe my group is eager to return to the surface to see how our other allies are doing." More like we just wanted to get out of Orzammar. Fast. And hopefully never return. "Thank you for your aid." 

"Good luck up there, Warden. And may we both crush our enemies." He nodded a dismissal, and I nodded back before leaving the throne room. And sighed in relief as soon as the damn doors closed behind me. Ugh… never again. 

"Looks like you didn't get a good impression." I found myself smiling at that laughing voice, and I even relaxed when I saw Natia skip up. Unlike before, she was wearing a rather fancy, if still practical, dress. "Wanted to see you before you left," she noted. She smiled apologetically. "I seriously thought they'd listen only to a Paragon. Never dreamed they'd go 'oh, wait, the Ancestors favor the Wardens, so let's throw the problem in their lap'." 

"I think it's my fault for playing so neutral," I sighed, shaking my head. If I had picked a side, surely it wouldn't have come to that. …Right? "Well, it was good for a couple of people. The trip down, I mean." 

"It was good for a lot. The information you put into the Shaperate is saving some families who were on the verge of losing everything." Huh? "You guys found a lot of stuff that was lost to the Memories. That means the Memories are getting edited and they've decided that those related to Golems would be elevated to higher castes, like warrior." Seriously? "Even some casteless, if you can believe it. Plus some old noble houses are being reinstated because your information found that there were actually survivors, meaning there's new blood in the Assembly for the first time in who knows _how_ long." Her smile turned sweet. "It'll probably take years for the full effects to be felt, but believe me. You guys… saved a lot of people." Oh… "And if you forget that, remember Zerlinda. She and her baby are doing just fine. Good health and everything." 

That… "That does make me feel better." My own smile turned wry. "This has been a… very tiring adventure." 

"I can imagine." She winked and saluted. "Oh, and I've got the Carta all set up to help you lot up on the surface." Seriously? "We'll start giving spy reports. Where should they go for now?" 

"We're meeting in Redcliffe Castle, so I guess there?" Who… was going to handle those reports? Cleon? Yeah, Cleon. I'd make him do it. "Thank you, Natia." 

"No problem." She laughed. "Anyway, I've got to go reassure my sister. She's freaking out because now she's the _king's_ concubine and it just hit her how powerful she is." 

"Good luck?" She laughed again and waved goodbye. With my mood lifted greatly, I headed down the hall, looking for the way out. 

But, on the way, I ran into somehow I didn't expect. Kardol of the Legion. "I still can't believe it," he all but laughed when he saw me, shaking his head as he approached. "There's a king again, because of you. I get my order at last, meaning I can finally take the Legion further into the line. Who knows? Maybe we can take back… well, you know it as the Dead Trenches." He nodded to me, and I just tried to smile as I remembered _that_ part of the journey. I would have nightmares forever, just of the broodmother. "You'll definitely have us indirectly. When you break the horde, we'll keep them from retreating. And, who knows, maybe you'll have us directly too." 

"…Directly?" That… startled me. "You were so angry before…" 

"Look, kid. I hate surfacers." I winced, but nodded. I understood it. Hated it, because we needed help, but understood it. "But I got to give credit to someone who pulled off miracles. Maybe you can do so again." He shrugged, even as I stared in surprise. "Like I said. Maybe. I'm still thinking on it." 

"I'm honored you are even considering it." I smiled. "I'll look for you in the fight." 

"Ha, might be worth going up just to see you all fight again. It was fun." He did laugh then. "Well, each of the Legion owes our homeland a death, but if it's better shed on the surface, then maybe we'll do that. But if we do, you better ensure we're returned to the Stone." 

"Of course." I bowed to him. "Thank you." 

"Save the thanks. And get Oghren to teach you how to be a proper Berserker. You hold back too much." Oghren? "Ah, there he is. I'll let him go from here. And Warden? Nice meeting you." Kardol walked off, waving goodbye. 

I turned to see Oghren was standing in the doorway, looking at me. "I've only stayed because I wanted to know what happened to my family," he told me easily. He was armed and armored, and I could tell his pack was… well, packed. "I'm heading to the surface no matter what. Figured it might be better to go with you lot." 

"Are you certain?" I asked, startled. I had assumed we'd go our separate ways after returning from the Deep Roads. "The surface is…" 

"Different. I've made a mess of my life down here. Maybe I can make something again up there." Ah… "And he's right. You've got the makings of a Berserker, but you hold back too much. I'll teach you the proper way." 

"It's not going to involve getting drunk, right? I hold my liquor well." 

"Nah, that's just a bonus." He grinned. "Basically, showing you the 'right' way to get the anger burning." Ah. "Then showing you good ways to smash things. Get your second wind. It's an offensive style. You play too defensively." 

Well, then. "I'm going to get my ass beaten into the ground a lot, aren't I?" I groaned. He just laughed. "Welcome aboard, Oghren." 

"Good to hear." There were gasps outside, and incredulous shouts and cheers. "I bet Shale's back." Nodding, we both moved outside, and saw he was right. Shale had returned. And, to my surprise, she brought… I couldn't even see the end of the line of golems. There had been this many? And this many… were willing to fight? 

"Ah, there it is," Shale grumbled. She looked annoyed, but seemed placated by how shocked I looked. "Well, here you go. Golems for your use. No control rods, of course." Of course… 

And now I needed to think rapidly. Because there was no _way_ Orzammar was going to let us take all of them, no matter their wishes. "Shale, you're a miracle worker," I breathed. I glanced over and saw Bhelen just staring in shock. Right, okay. "Shale, would some be willing to remain and guard Orzammar?" 

"I imagine so. Some were nervous about going up on the surface." Oh, good. "The rest are eager for a fight." 

"And we will show them one." Golems. I had golems. _We_ had golems. A fighting force no one had for… what? Over a thousand years? And they were _our_ allies. Not Orzammars. Ours. 

This… also meant we were traveling with a bunch of golems. Well, I was sure they'd fit in well with our bird-hating golem, our witch of the wilds, our Circle mage, our Qunari, our Antivan Crow, our former Orlesian bard, and now our dwarven berserker. All of which followed a city elf and a dalish elf. And that wasn't even going into the other four… 

We were such a weird group. The storytellers were going to have a _blast_ with us. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: And now we're done with a Paragon of Her Kind, last of the four 'main' questlines'. Kardol will assist the Warden if you pass a persuasion check (or are a dwarf), lending some of his Legion to your dwarven allies. ALSO, THE CONVERSATION ABOUT CLEON'S SILENCE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ACTUALLY SHOWN EARLIER, AND I'M SORRY I MISSED THAT NOTE IN MY OUTLINING! 
> 
> (Ahem) Anyway, though, yes, Bhelen rules. Harrowmont is the more 'moral' choice, but he's kinda bad for Orzammar ultimately, while Bhelen is more 'pragmatic', but actually helps Orzammar, so Aiden picked it. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Redcliffe with Nuada 


	81. Chapter 71) Miracle of the Ashes

Chapter 71) Miracle of the Ashes 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_"What's wrong, Fergus?" I asked. It was a 'safe' question to ask. I knew it had to be, because Fergus had dropped his mask to laugh bitterly over some letter he had gotten from Fereldan. This was Orlais. You never dropped the mask._

_"Oh, Nuada, is it time for the dinner… thing?" Fergus asked in return. I gave him a look and he sighed. "Okay, even if it is, I clearly need a minute to remember what to think and look like."_

_"Elspeth is staying in on account of a 'headache'." His eyes narrowed, and I shook my head. "As far as I can tell, she's just tired. People stopped trying to get into her skirts when she broke that guy's foot with her heel."_

_"I still wish she'd let me take him to task with a duel." It wouldn't have been very entertaining. Fergus would've won in two seconds. "Ah, now I definitely need to rest."_

_"You could tell me what's wrong."_

_"You're a terror, Nuada." Fergus smiled kindly, and I grinned. It was nice, to just be ourselves. "I'm reading a letter I got from Cailan." Cailan was… oh, right, he was the prince of Fereldan. I'd never met him. "They're calling Father a miracle-worker in Fereldan."_

_"Is that bad? It is what is expected of Couslands."_

_"Perfection and miracles, with no one ever looking into how much damn work and stress we go through." He sighed heavily. "Worst part is that I didn't even think about it until I saw what it did to you and Elspeth."_

_"I'm fine."_

_"Of course you are. So am I. Couslands aren't allowed to not be 'fine'." He had a point there. "How important is this dinner thing?"_

_"It isn't very important."_

_"You and I are going to relax with Elspeth."_

_"Okay." I smiled. Honestly, that sounded amazing. "I'll go tell Mother."_

* * *

When we arrived in Redcliffe, Elspeth stayed back to tend to the horses, and to arrange for Brother Genetivi to be escorted to Denerim, letting Alistair, Layla, and I head on inside. One quick talk to Teagan and Isolde, and we were racing for Eamon's room. 

Layla crashed down to her knees next to Eamon and brought out the pouch with the Ashes inside. She called her magic to it, and went to work on trying to heal Eamon. I hung back in the doorway with Alistair and Teagan. Isolde wasn't with us. She was _so confident_ that this would work that she was actually getting things ready. It was… some strange mix of heartwarming and pathetic. 

"Will this work?" Teagan, meanwhile, was much more pragmatic about this. "I mean…" he mumbled when Alistair and I looked at him. "Nothing else has." 

"If anyone can do it, it's Layla," I told him. This might have worked better if both her _and_ Wynne were here, but that would've left the Orzammar group without a trained healer, and that just seemed all sorts of bad. "Alistair, how is this different from normal healing?" 

"She's basically just using the Ashes as a catalyst to boost her magic far beyond what she can normally safely handle," Alistair answered. His eyes were narrowed. "The amplification here, though…" I gave him a curious look. "Honestly, I think that tiny pinch is producing the equivalent power of a _mountain_ of lyrium." Huh. "Ah, look!" 

Layla's magic washed over Eamon and, to my surprise, I saw _something_ leave Eamon, leaving him coughing roughly. Was he really…? Wait, Layla! 

"Layla!" I yelped, noticing her falling. I caught her before she hit the ground, and saw she was unconscious. "Flames, you're always giving me a heart attack." I checked her pulse and found it steady. She probably just fainted from exhaustion. We hadn't let up our pace at all on our way from the Frostbacks to Redcliffe, and then she performed a lot of magic. 

"Here, I'll take her," Alistair offered, crouching next to me. He looked nervous, and I wondered if it was because he was seeing Eamon again for the first time in ten years. "Looks like she needs the rest." He wanted to avoid it. 

"Are you running?" 

"I'm buying time to get my thoughts in order." I would accept that. "So." 

"Here." I carefully passed Layla over to him. "Just promise to talk to him later." Alistair nodded. "See you soon." Alistair smiled and then left. With a little sigh, I returned my attention to Eamon. Teagan was hovering over him worriedly, and I couldn't blame him. All we had was a coughing Eamon who didn't seem to even be conscious. 

But, finally, Eamon groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. "Where… am I?" I breathed a sigh of relief. Eamon… was awake at last. "What happened…?" he rasped, struggling to sit up. He promptly slipped and crashed back down on the pillows. "Ugh…" 

"Be calm, brother," Teagan murmured. He knelt by the bed, smiling wide. I saw him holding back tears. "You have been deathly ill for a long while." 

"Teagan?" Eamon reached up and patted him on the head, like he was a child. Teagan made a face. "Sorry, habit. You were always a crybaby." 

"I was not." Ha! "You must be feeling better if you're already teasing me." 

"I suppose." Eamon's face grew worried. "Isolde? Connor?" 

"Isolde had such faith that this would work that she went to make you your favorite soup," I answered. I knelt on the other side of the bed, and Eamon blinked slowly at me. "Connor is helping." He smiled slightly. "A lot has happened, Eamon. Some of it will not be easy for you to hear." 

"The last thing I remember hearing before becoming ill was Bryce, Eleanor, and Cailan had all died," Eamon replied. His smile turned bitter. "I doubt whatever you can tell me will be worse than that." Well… "Then again, Nuada, you always had a habit of proving me wrong." He lifted a shaking hand and hovered it by my eyes. "What in the Maker's grace have you done to yourself?" 

"That's a tale." 

"Well, tell me it. All of it, both of you." Teagan and I exchanged a look. "I must know what all has happened." 

"Well, Eamon, if the last thing you heard was the fall of Ostagar and Highever, I have _quite_ some news for you…" This was going to be fun. "So, Loghain is now Regent, and…" 

* * *

"This is all so troubling," Eamon sighed. It had taken two or three tellings of the story for Eamon to fully process everything that had happened. We took a break so he could eat, and dote on Isolde and Connor, and now, Elspeth and I were sitting with him in his study. "Ah, thank you, Elspeth." He accepted a mug of tea with a smile. "It always amazes me how you keep poised." 

"I have had much practice," she replied, smiling slightly in return as she sat down next to me. "There is much to be done now, though." 

"Yes, but I need to also be thankful to those who have done so much." His smile warmed. "How is Miss Layla?" 

"Layla's resting in one of your finest guests rooms, from what I can tell," I informed him. Isolde had insisted on it, and from what I saw, she also was making sure all the rest of the _very good_ guest rooms were being prepared. Let it never be said Isolde didn't know how to be grateful eventually. "I imagine she'll sleep until dinner, and one of us will prod her awake." I leaned forward in my chair, though, focused on him. "But, we do need to finalize the plans. There is no telling what Loghain will do once he learns you've recovered." 

"I still cannot believe all this madness," Eamon sighed. He took a sip of his tea, and smiled a bit. "Elspeth, you did not need to go through the trouble of making my favorite blend." Elspeth simply smiled. "Regardless, though, I have known Loghain for a very long time. He has always been a sensible man, perhaps too much so, and never had much desire for power. It took forever to get him to accept the Gwaren Teynir." Yeah, I knew all of that. That's why this was all such a mess, and I no longer trusted my nostalgic tinted memories on _anyone_. "But Teagan has also never been one to lie." 

"The description of that announcement just… makes me ill," Elspeth murmured. Her eyes were sad, and she drooped a bit in her chair. "He sounded mad with power, and Anora is simply letting him." Honestly, the idea of Anora _letting_ anyone do anything without her permission was… laughable. So, either she was complicit or things had spiraled far out of control and she… no, that would be too harsh, even in my own head. 

"Mad indeed. Mad enough to kill me, slaughter my family, destroy my lands and the people within." Eamon's eyes hardened. Yeah, Loghain was going to regret that. Eamon was many things, and protective was among them. "Whatever happened, Loghain _must_ be stopped." 

"Elspeth and I had a plan that the rest of our group agreed to," I began. Elspeth brought out the book of Highever treaties and opened it to the treaty we needed. "See, Father set a trap for Howe as everything fell apart." 

"Of course he did," Eamon sighed. He shook his head. "That man never stopped working or doing his duty." 

"Does _any_ Cousland?" Eamon nodded, conceding the point. "Regardless, while the trap was set for _Howe_ , Loghain walked right into it too." I took the book from Elspeth to make it easier for me to show Eamon what I was talking about. "Calenhad's oath to Elethea was one he took up upon declaring himself Regent and he violated it." 

"You intend on calling Oathbreaker." Eamon frowned. "He can declare that since he has not been officially crowned, he is free of the oath." Ah, yes, that was a point. 

However… "It is still enough to give people pause, even if it cannot be officially." Eamon nodded. "Besides, the fact _does_ remain that Howe dove into the trap Father set, and _that_ is going to have consequences for Loghain." 

"We have Howe's sworn oath to Father," Elspeth added, taking over. I passed the book to her and she opened it to that treaty. "Howe is an Oathbraeker, and Loghain put him in a position of power." 

"Which will make Loghain seem defensive and put more weight in the accusation of Loghain himself being an Oathbreaker." Eamon murmured. He laughed a little. "Less battles, less soldiers, less powerful allies for Loghain…" 

"Fergus has already been helping call a Landsmeet, but if you add your voice to his, no one will be able to cry off." 

"A full Landsmeet. We've not had one in five years." The last time _every_ noble attended the same Landsmeet was when Cailan was chosen to be King. "But it is fitting and necessary." Yeah, it was. "If Fergus and I call, though…" 

"I will serve as the debater. Nuada will be the dueler." There was no _way_ this wouldn't end in a duel. Either we would have to call it or Loghain will. "The others in the group shall remain neutral, as Wardens ought, in case we need to bring a neutral voice to the matter." …Have I warned Aiden that might be the case? I should double check. 

"How rare to see you two willing to step up. Elspeth, you hate speaking in public, and Nuada, you hate showing your true skill." Yeah… well… a lot has happened. "Still, some things never change. You two are a perfect balance, as always." His smile was kind. "It is truly miraculous you two survived." I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from retorting. 

So, it surprised me when someone _did_. "Arl Eamon, I think calling it a miracle degrades how much they went through to survive?" I turned to confirm it _was_ Alistair coming to our defense, and I was just stunned. "From what I've heard from Layla, it wasn't pretty," he continued, smiling a little. Eamon nodded, accepting the rebuke in good grace. "Arl Eamon, for the Landsmeet… you're planning on using me, right?" 

"You are a Theirin, Alistair," Eamon replied. His smile was gentle. "You're the only one worthy of it, and you are the only one with a claim stronger than Anora's." 

"I can think of a bunch of others who would be worthier, but that's… not the point." I could see him tense, and I saw him take a breath to steel his nerves. His hands were shaking. "Just… wanted to tell you that I'm okay with it." Huh? "I'm fine with being a candidate. I'm not going to run away." Alistair… "Though, ah… if there's some books you'd recommend? I'd like to study a bit?" 

"I think Elspeth knows the library better than I do." Eamon's eyes were soft and warm, and he looked nostalgic and proud. "She certainly has spent much longer there than I." 

"If that is the case, I do have a few recommendations," Elspeth murmured. She stood up and curtseyed to Eamon in farewell, mostly to be polite, and took Alistair's arm. "This way?" 

"Hmm… you know, that would be a powerful pairing," Eamon whispered. I gave him a look and he chuckled. "Speaking politically, which I know you hate." 

"Well, if I have to 'lose' my twin to someone, Alistair isn't so bad," I replied loftily. He laughed. "But, well, we have his permission. I'm sure you would have gone along even if he was kicking and screaming, but it's still nice." 

"Yes, it is." He looked so happy. "Ah, I'm glad. Despite the mess I made of his life, he is happy." 

"…Why did you take him in?" I might as well take the opportunity to ask this. I probably would never get such a perfect chance. 

"Maric asked me to, as a promise to Alistair's mother." I frowned a little at that. "He also worried about Rowan's reputation." 

"Queen Rowan was dead." 

"That doesn't matter to people." No, I suppose not. Maker forbid that a widower (or widow for that matter) find love another time. "So, for those reasons, I took Alistair in. I could not show favoritism because it would defeat the purpose of keeping him safe, but perhaps… no, I definitely overcompensated." I wasn't saying a word~ "And, in the end, I sent him away. Maric never quite forgave me for that, but perhaps he would, if he could see Alistair now." 

"I suppose." Honestly, I think Uncle Maric would've been proud of Alistair even if he was some drunkard in a tavern. "So, Alistair's mother…" 

"I will not say." Damn. "Forgive me, Nuada, but… it is a promise. A promise to a dear friend, and dearer king." Uncle Maric… had really wanted to try and spare Alistair whatever grief would come from being his parents' child. But, it seemed all for nothing, that sacrifice. "It doesn't matter. Alistair is Alistair." 

"That is true." I nodded. "So, I know Elspeth isn't here to discuss, but I did have a couple of ideas for winning support…" 

"I am all ears." He smiled slowly, and I was reminded just _why_ Father liked Eamon so much. Eamon knew how to _play_. "This will be interesting." 

"It will be interestingly entertaining." I smiled back. "So, clearly, the weakest link is Howe, so…" 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So, here we go. It's a bit of a filler chapter, based a bit on some in-game cutscenes, and reiterating the plan of the Landsmeet. About Alistair's mother… see, what Alistair is told (and what the Origins codex states) is actually a bit of a lie. Alistair's birth mother is, in truth, alive and well… and leads the mage rebellion in Inquisition. Yes, Fiona and her people take refuge in the kingdom of Maric, who she was at least friends with and attracted to, the kingdom that (potentially) is ruled by her son, Alistair. For more hilarity, Fiona is an Orlesian mage former-Warden who holds a position of significant leadership; Alistair is a Fereldan Templar Warden, who _may_ hold a position of significant leadership depending on the choices of the player. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Shale 


	82. Interlude - Remembering Golem

Interlude – Remembering Golem 

* * *

These its were so inefficient. Do they not know how much quicker they could reach their destination if they didn't sleep? Or do that weird think with too much sweat and huffing, with limbs are tangled together, like the Swamp Witch and the Deaf Elf. Ah, the wonders of flesh. She's glad she doesn't have them. 

She sighs, blinking slowly as she stares up at the stars. Strange twinkling things. Like lyrium rocks in the stone walls of the tunnels, marking the paths through the old and ancient empire. She has only vague memories of that time. Others are sharper, but she avoids them. She doesn't like them much. 

She returns her attention to the camp. They are all sleeping, as squishy, fleshy things are wont to do. She, and the other golems, are standing watch. They sit and stare, every once in a while poking at the strange grass under their feet, the mud slipping into the cracks of the stone. She, however, watches the tents, watches the shadows within. She counts the breaths. One, two, three… she gets really high up, as the night goes on. She tells herself its because she's battling the overwhelming urge to crush their faces. 

But, really, she's scared. 

They're so fragile, these squishies. One little poke, and their limbs go flying off. They crush so easily, putrid liquid flying all over the place. Its funny when its darkspawn. It was funny when it was the townsfolk. It wasn't so fun when it was these squishies. These squishies who listened to Caridin, and gave him the death he wanted. These squishes who, tired and battered, still listened to her request. Let her see her home, her old home, and let her put a place to the vague memories. The vague, and slowly drawing clearer, memories. 

And in those memories, she sees people, places, things. She sees eyes staring at her, eyes staring at her in the present. In the City Elf, she sees the eyes of a Warden of old, battered and hurting, but looking straight ahead. The Deaf Elf, the eyes of a warrior who saw too much, smiled too little. The Swamp Witch, a mage who thought she knew it all and then learned far too late she didn't. The Elder Mage, a woman who continued to work even as she coughed up her life's blood. The Painted Elf, a thief who smiled wide and laughed hard, until it became too much and his brains dashed across the stone. The Qunari, a old warrior who believed so strongly that his worldview distorted what he saw. The Drunken Dwarf, another warrior who drank his brain into a stupor and pretended not care while caring far too much. 

None of those people met happy ends. She remembers that too. She doesn't like that much. Yes, they're squishies. Yes, they'll die. She doesn't care about that. She cares, though… about how they meet that end. Do they meet that end too young, too soon? Crawling, broken and bleeding through the mud, struggling to live one more second as their insides bleed into their outsides? 

She doesn't know. She hopes not. But, if they do, she knows she will remember. She remembers everything, after all. Even the things she'd rather forget. She knows she'll remember their lives, forever, and she'll remember their deaths even longer. 

She's not sure how she feels about that. But it's as true as her past, so... might as well deal with it. And crush some skulls into fountains of blood to beat out the frustration. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And here is Shale. Short, but… well… 
> 
> Next Chapter – Reunions with Cleon 


	83. Chapter 72) Welcome Back

Chapter 72) Welcome Back 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Cleon! Welcome back!" Lyna laughed, racing over to hug me. She must have gotten back from her own hunt early today. "Welcome back, welcome back!"_

_"You're later than usual today," Merrill added shyly, creeping up hesitantly. When Lyna released me, I held my arms out for a hug, and she launched herself into me. "Did something go wrong? Well, it's you, so probably not, but…"_

_"Well, I… uh…" I began, laughing awkwardly. "I… ended up killing something too big for me to carry?"_

_"Like what?"_

_"A couple of bears?"_

_"…Cleon, how did you manage that?!"_

* * *

Redcliffe. I smiled as we approached, feeling myself relax as we walked into the castle. Redcliffe. It meant we were 'back'. We were 'done'. We didn't have to deal with Orzammar's damn politics for a long while. It also meant I got to see all the soldiers try and fail to gape at all the golems we brought with us. That, alone, made the whole damn trip worth it. Barely. 

Movement caught my attention, and I was startled to see Connor run up to us. 'Welcome back,' he called with a small smile. Sten signed for me. 'I am glad to see you are well.' He bowed to us. '…Um…' 

'The next step is, 'shall I show you to your rooms?', Connor." And there was Elspeth, walking up… and wearing a dress. A dress-dress. A rather simple, but _clearly_ expensive and fine even by my eye, dress. It shouldn't be startling, except the last time I saw her in a dress-dress, and not the leather-skirt-and-armor ensemble… was when we first _met_. 'Though, otherwise, that was very well done, Connor,' she praised, stroking his head. Connor smiled slightly. 'Regardless…' Elspeth curtseyed before going back to signing. 'Yes, welcome back, everyone. 'I am guessing you managed to navigate Orzammar politics without killing anyone?' 

'Well, no one the Assembly cares about,' Aiden signed, look making it clear just how _exasperated_ he was still. Elspeth smiled sympathetically. 'We have them, though. And you all?' 

'The Sacred Ashes were found, and Eamon has been cured.' Yay. 'And I see you have brought… unexpected…' Her jaw actually dropped. Her eyed went wide and she just _gaped_. 'That is…' she signed, hands shaking. 'That's the golem from the rebellion?!' She bolted straight to Shale, babbling something, and looking incredibly excited, eyes sparkling and everything. I had no idea what she was saying, if she was signing I couldn't see her hands, but Shale seemed to… well… preen under it, so I assumed it was praise? 

Aiden waved to catch my attention and signed, 'Well, that is a sight I had not expected to see.' I almost nodded, but Aiden pointed to show me he hadn't been the one to say it, but rather, the older man walking up. 'You must be Lords Aiden and Cleon," the man continued. I saw he waited to make sure Aiden finished signing before speaking. He'd been prompted. 'I am Eamon, Arl of Redcliffe.' Oh! Him! He looked… significantly better when not half-dead. 'Please forgive Elspeth's enthusiasm. She has grown up on stories of the golem who assisted Maric in the rebellion.' …Shale _fought_ in the rebellion here?! 

'We like it when she actually acts her age,' I signed back, Aiden translating for me. Eamon burst into laughter, warming his face. 'So, do you mind if we come in to rest? The golems don't need to, but the rest of us _really_ need it.' 

'Isolde has baths, changes of clothes, and rooms prepared for all of you, though I imagine she will be fretting over the golems.' I could _almost_ like the woman. 'Please, this way.' He gestured into the castle. 'My home is your home.' That… was very kind of him. It was weird being welcomed. But I liked it. A lot. 

* * *

After a long, long bath, made longer by the fact that I actually fell _asleep_ in it, and then almost killed the poor maid who tried to wake me up… well, the idea was to meet with Aiden, Nuada, and Layla to talk about what is going on. However, Nuada was too busy laughing his damn head off because of the maid incident for us to discuss anything important. Damn him. 

'Nuada, you should not be laughing!' Layla scolded, scowling at him. I noticed she seemed a lot… surer about herself than she'd been when we left. Good. 'That poor maid…' 

'I ran into her shortly before we got here, and the shock of having almost died has been replaced by 'Maker, he looks _really good_ naked'," Nuada managed to sign. He was still laughing hard, hard enough that he had rolled onto his back, sprawled out on the floor, face redder than an apple. I noticed he and Layla were, like Elspeth, dressed in fine yet simple clothing. Nuada's had a high collar to it, a style I hadn't seen shemlen wear. Layla's dress was simple, with strange… holes in the sleeves? There was a sleeve, yes, but the top part was cut-out. It looked nice, but it was a little weird. 'So, I am laughing. Deal with it.' 

'Brat.' Nuada stuck out his tongue and she rolled her eyes. 'Hold still. I need to check you over.' Nuada nodded, and held still as Layla ran healing magic over him. 'Your stomach wound is healing nicely.' What. 

'That is still causing difficulties?' Aiden asked, incredulous. Unlike the rest of us, he decided to be sane and actually use a chair. I was sprawled out on a bed, and Layla and Nuada were on the floor. 'I thought…' 

'We forgot about it, and the thread almost healed within the skin'. …Oops. I shouldn't have done that. I was the one who sewed it up. 'That is all.' She shifted so that Nuada was resting in her lap. I saw Nuada's eyes widen in shock, and I exchanged a grin with Aiden. Well, well~ 'Regardless…' 

'Regardless, I have one question before we chat about serious things,' I signed, waving to catch attention. 'Nuada, what did you do to your eye?' It was a different color now, and I thought his canine teeth had elongated slightly. 

'A demon cut it.' I scowled at how deliberately obtuse he was being. 'I thought we went over this already,' Nuada signed, eyes wide and innocent. Layla rolled her eyes and continued checking him over. 

'The other one. And you have fangs now, and some weird scarring, and seriously, what in the name of the Creators did you do?' 

'I drank dragon blood. I highly do _not_ recommend it.' Nuada signed the word 'not' five times. 'Just don't.' 

'Why did you?' 

'There was a cult guarding the Ashes, and I drank some stuff they gave me, and basically I am a Reaver now, and we can go into what it is later.' Well, I hoped he was prepare for a _lot_ of questions! Particularly about his sanity! Damn it, Nuada! Have _some_ self-preservation, please? 'So, golems?' 

'Golems,' Aiden signed. He sighed, though, head drooping with the motion. 'Only good thing to come out of that whole damn mess. Last time I felt so useless was Ostagar.' 

'Sounds like it was even worse than I expected, and I was expected bad.' 

'There is a thing called Broodmothers that we will tell you about later.' I shuddered at the memory. And felt myself go cold at the thought of any of the females in our group being inflicted with such a fate. 'We picked a king. Bhelen.' 

'…Where in flames was…?' Nuada actually looked startled. So startled that I had no idea if he trailed off or said a name I didn't have a sign for. 'I always thought she would succeed her father.' 

'Not there, apparently. Never did hear what happened, other than possibly framing by Bhelen?' 

'That name is familiar…' Layla signed, face thoughtful. From it, I gathered Nuada had said a name, and frowned. But no one noticed. 'Where did I…?' She clapped her hands as she beamed. 'Oh! The merchant lady who sold me my…!' Her what? I didn't know that sign. 'She was married to a man named…' Layla paused, glancing back at me. 'So, where are you confused?' Finally. 

'Name of person we are talking about, name of what was sold, and name you were going to say,' I signed, scowling. I didn't bother hiding my annoyance. 'So…' I held out my hand so Layla could spell things out. S-e-n-e-c-a. Seneca. R-a-p-i-e-r. Rapier, paired with the sign she had used. G-o-r-i-m. Gorim. Okay. I had context finally. 

'They must be the same people,' Nuada signed. I gave him an annoyed look and he smiled wryly. "I am sorry and will submit myself to whatever punishment you want later, but I think some people need a nap.' He pointed to Aiden… who was half-asleep. Actually, no, make that _fast_ asleep. Well, damn. 'See, not _everyone_ fell asleep in their baths.' Ha. Ha. Very funny. 'So, we can work in out later?' 

'Count on it.' Nuada grinned, and I grinned back. 'So, golems, thanks to Shale.' Now it was Nuada and Layla's turn to look confused. Right, they didn't know the signs for Shale _or_ Oghren. 'The smaller golem, apparently fought in the rebellion.' Nuada's jaw dropped. 'Focus.' He scowled, and Layla smiled. 'We also picked up a dwarf berserker. You can meet him later.' 

'On our end, we have the Ashes, Eamon, and a Landsmeet being called, officially.' Finally. 'And rumors swirling around and around. People are defecting from Loghain left and right, though he still has powerful allies, and the people who leave him aren't necessarily with _us_.' They were just neutral and could be swayed. Right? 'We are also pushing Alistair for the throne.' What. 'With his permission.' _What_?! 'And with that, let's leave Aiden to his nap.' 

…Seriously? 'Nuada, I could hate you sometimes.' He grinned and I rolled my eyes. 'All right, so…' Movement caught my eye, and I rolled off the bed, knife in hand. Layla caught my arm, though, and good thing. The person was Teagan. 

'Ah, sorry if I interrupted?' Teagan began, glancing around the room. Layla signed for him. 'But I found something in the library I thought Cleon might like.' At my nod, he came over and handed me a manual. Inside the cover, I saw one word: Shadow. 'It was written by someone who once served in Redcliffe, specializing in concealment and ambushing.' Oh, then… it was perfect for me. 'Thought it might be useful.' 

I flipped through it, noting it also had pictures, and smiled slowly. Yes, useful indeed. 'Ma serranas,' I signed. Layla translated for me, with a bright, bright smile. Teagan smiled back. 'I shall use it well.' 

* * *

I spent some time flipping through the manual, vowing to get Leliana and Zevran to help me, before passing out for another nap. Afterwards, I decided to wander the castle, peeking in on everyone. Leliana, Wynne, and Morrigan were still sleeping, Oghren was sampling the wine cellar, Sten was 'meditating' (I think he was just napping standing up), Shale was getting a _kick_ out of terrorizing the servants, Elspeth was talking to Eamon and Teagan about something, and the others… were clustered in one room. With both Alistair and Nuada shirtless as Zevran tattooing something on Aiden's lower back, with Layla watching on. Um… 

I rapped the doorframe to catch attention, and signed, 'what is going on exactly?' 

'Tattooing, obviously,' Nuada replied, with a grin, his signs light and innocent. I gave him a look and he shrugged. 'Alistair asked Zevran to do one, and that got Aiden interested, and then Layla wanted to see mine fully because she didn't get a good look prior…' 

'And now it's Aiden's turn to endure the needle!' Alistair signed, but only with one hand. I imagined it hurt to move his arm. There, on the upper bicep, was a griffon rampant, with a sparkling crown. Subtle, Zevran. Real subtle. But, it was beautiful, and badass, so it all worked out. 'Come in, sit down!' Alistair waved me to a chair, and passed me some candies to snack on. 'Basically, we're having fun. New concept, I know.' That… was true. When _was_ the last time we got to sit down and just have fun? It felt like forever. 

'I am going to get one too!' Layla signed, bouncing a bit with excitement. 'On my back!' I noticed she had a blanket near her, and figured she'd use that to cover herself. How kind of… whoever thought to provide it. 'The one on Nuada's back is _super_ pretty.' She signed 'super' three times, and when I moved to look at Nuada's back, I had to admit, it was worth the repetition. A great wing, partially unfurled, the feathers reaching the edges of his back, and curving over his shoulder. A bird ready to move at a moment's notice. Yeah, that sounded like Nuada. 'Zevran says he'll make it match!' Now, was that because she liked it or because Zevran was subtly going 'kiss already!'? The twinkle in his eyes as he continued to work implied the latter. 'Cleon, do you want one?' Well… Hmm… Actually… 

'Yes, let's get one, if Zevran doesn't mind,' I signed, smiling as the cheer of the room infected me. I obtained my vallaslin as a sign of adulthood, a coming of age ritual to signify I was no longer a child. Why not get another, to signify I was a Warden? Besides, it would be fun, getting tattoos with friends. I had gotten my vallaslin alone, the first of my friends. 'Zevran?' 

'I love this, so I certainly do not mind,' Zevran signed, in between adding bits of ink. 'But wait your turn. I have to finish up Aiden's.' I nodded, expecting that. I was also trying to figure out what he was drawing. All I caught were wings. He was definitely doing a 'griffon' motif for all of us. 'I will make it something Morrigan to eye appreciatively.' 

'You sign that as if she doesn't already.' Laughter rippled through the room. I could tell by how Zevran paused in his inking to throw his head back, Aiden shook on the table, and the other three swayed with the sound. 'Thank you.' 

'It is no worries.' Zevran waved the thanks away and went back to work. 'Sit, relax, enjoy a bit of wine.' Nuada helpfully held up the bottle when I eyed Zevran skeptically. Why was there wine? Pain numbing? 'Rest for once.' 

Rest, indeed. 'I think I will.' 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Yay, everyone together again! Yes, tattoos for all the Wardens. Yes, Cleon's third specialization is Shadow. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Resting with Layla 


	84. Chapter 73) Bit of Courage

Chapter 73) Bit of Courage 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_I giggled as I peeked around the corner. Anders and Karl were talking again. I was so happy Anders had found someone to care for. He smiled more often, and maybe more importantly, he did not try to escape, which meant there was less chance of him dying. I did not want him to die…_

_"Who's there?" Karl suddenly called, eyes narrowing. I squeaked and stumbled out. Anders might like Karl, but that did not mean I did not find him intimidating! "Oh, Layla? Is there something wrong?" He smiled awkwardly while Anders rolled his eyes. "Anders late for a healing lesson again?"_

_"N-no…" I mumbled. I darted behind Anders to hide. "I am simply spying on you two because it is fun to see you two so happy."_

_Karl burst into laughter, while Anders choked on a yelp. It was nice, to hear such laughter in the halls. Things had been rather gloomy lately._

* * *

The sound of steel clanging against steel caught my ear, and I glanced down from the balcony to watch and reassure myself that there was no real battle. We simply had Nuada teaching Aiden and Alistair 'champion' tricks to add to their fighting styles, and Cleon, with help from Zevran and Leliana, practicing the tricks from the manual Teagan gave him. 

"Layla, are you listening?" Smiling, I returned my attention to Morrigan. "We were making our way through that recipe," she reminded me sourly. I nodded as I remembered. A request from the dwarves had come in, requesting that we gain the materials for something called 'Dwarven Regicide Antidote'. While the ingredients themselves were simple, the antidote itself was very complex. "I do not know why we are dealing with this when we had already done so much…" 

"Elspeth says that they must be desperate to ask for help, meaning we can use it to call in a favor," I reminded her. She and Wynne were originally planned to be here, but Eamon had asked Elspeth to speak with him to craft a verbal plan of attack for the Landsmeet, and Wynne had been asked to check on the villagers. "That seemed rather… useful, yes?" 

"Considering everything we went through, we should have just blown them all up." Morrigan looked irritated. "Damned fools, making us run around like headless chickens, exhausting everyone… they are fools." 

"You said that twice." 

"I will say it as many times as I please." She scowled. "That whole place was just a mess. The scars it left…" Her hands clenched into fists. "Cleon wakes up shaking, remembering the Broodmother, and remembering how Branka died." I could not help but laugh a little. "Tis funny that he has nightmares?" 

"No, but I am glad you care for him so much that you are angry on his behalf." She froze at that, and glanced away sheepishly. "I take it that it is not a feeling you are used to." 

"You… have no right to patronize me." 

"That was not my intention, and I apologize for my words." I smiled. "But I will not be sorry for the thought." 

"Bah, what happened to the scared little mage in the Wilds who was embarrassed over her freckles and hid behind everyone." 

"She went to war and did not die." My smile widened. "What happened to the shapeshifter who was in total command?" 

"…She went to war, and learned there is still much she does not know." Morrigan sighed. "Back to the recipe." 

"I do have a question, first." She scowled, but I smiled it off. "I have not seen you shapeshift for a long while." 

"I do not know many forms that are useful in combat, and we have been in a _lot_ of combat." That was true. "I intend on shifting into a bird to spy while we are in Denerim. I am coordinating with Elspeth and Leliana on it." Oh? I had not known that. "What will you do, in Denerim?" 

"Ideally, I will stay out of trouble, so that I do not compromise the 'neutral Warden voice' that might be needed." She scoffed and I giggled. "Oh, yes, none of us are neutral, but if we pretend officially…" 

"I think Aiden was ready to hurt Nuada when he learned that part." 

"Nuada fast-talked his way out of it." Laughter caught my ear now, and I turned my attention back below. The teaching groups had shifted around. Nuada and Alistair were sparring, while Oghren was teaching Aiden something he called 'Berserker'. Well, the word he used was not 'teaching', but 'refining'. "Where are Sten and Shale?" 

"Sten, last I checked, was meditating." She shrugged. "I do not know where Shale is, but I assume she is with the other golems, ensuring that no one has overstepped their bounds. Maybe convincing them of the evils of birds." 

"Why does Shale hate birds so much?" 

"She was a statue in a village for who knows how long." …That was a good point. "Regardless, if we are to put the dwarves in our debt, we must finish this quickly enough to be useful." 

"Yes, you are correct." With that, we bent over the complicated recipe again, dissecting it so that we could complete it as quickly as possible. 

It took a bit of courage to rest like this, knowing what was to come. But it was a courage we had earned. 

* * *

After finishing up the antidote, I went to the library for a bit of peace and quiet. I wanted to shift through the 'Memories', and it was best for things to be silent. 

"Shimmering Shield," I murmured aloud as I conjured it up. It was a powerful barrier, the most powerful I had ever even heard of. Accordingly, it consumed a lot of magical power, so it was best for short, quick blocks. With a bit of lyrium nearby, though, I could easily defend an entire city with it. …Actually, even without lyrium, I could do that. I would just have to burn some of my blood, but a little bit of blood matched the power of a _lot_ of lyrium. "I will have to inform the others." 

I waved my hand, dispelling the shield, and slumped back in my chair, closing my eyes. Honestly, the most 'powerful' thing about Arcane Warrior was the ability to change magical power into physical strength, something nothing else could do, as far as I knew. 

Shaking my head, I lifted up a hand and conjured up a single spirit blade. Knight Enchanters could do the same, but as I concentrated, I did what they could not: conjure two. I tried for three, but my focus faltered, and both scattered. I sighed. A 'warrior mage' could easily conjure many. Well, a 'warrior mage' could not conjure up an inferno like I could, so I should not be too discouraged. 

"Layla?" I turned to the door and smiled when I saw Nuada had walked in. "There you are," he greeted, smiling back. I noticed his hair was unbound for once, and damp. He must have just gotten out of the bath. "Is something wrong?" 

"I was just noticing how long your hair is," I murmured, pointing for emphasis. It was definitely at his hips now. "Elspeth's is just as long." 

"Yeah, I think I need a haircut soon." I pouted a little at that. I liked it long. It looked nice on him. "I take it you disagree?" 

"You and Elspeth look nice with long hair." 

"Well, it could be a detriment for a frontline fighter." That was true… "Ah, we'll see what happens. No one has caught it yet, somehow." I laughed a little and his smile softened. "So, am I interrupting?" 

"No, I was simply shifting through the Memories and practicing a little." Though, that did remind me… "Nuada, do you know tricks to increase stamina?" 

"I am so tempted to make a joke, but you might throw something at my head." My expression blanked for a moment as I tried to think of what was talking about, and _then_ I figured it out. "You're so red!" 

"That is your fault!" Honestly, Nuada… "You knew exactly what I meant." 

"Yes, I did." He still laughed a little. "Regardless, the best way is to simply do some exercises. I like running, personally, and doing a bit of weight-lifting." I made a face at the thought of running. I could run for my life, but the thought of doing it recreationally… actually, the thought made me start laughing. "Layla?" 

"I am sorry." I was giggling so much. "I was just… I did not like exercising in the Circle. I was glad when the swimming lessons were canceled." 

"They gave you _swimming_ lessons? You lived at a _lake_." 

"Yes, Anders swam to the shoreline and effectively put an end to that." He snickered, likely at how light my tone was, and I smiled. "But I could not help but laugh when I realized my thoughts were… well, I have changed in so many ways. It was a shock to realize I was still the _same_ in some respects." 

"I don't think that's so surprising." His smile was warm. "You are still a very kindhearted person." I felt a blush prick onto my face. "You are also still very, very beautiful." 

"Flatterer." 

"Oh, woe is me, that my compliments are dismissed!" He gasped dramatically, flailing about as if I had stabbed him. I could not help but laugh. "To return to seriousness, though, you are still you." 

"I suppose that means I also still hate exercising." I sighed, whimpering a little at the end. "But I must… get over that…" I wanted to be able to keep up. I had not been doing bad, but the Arcane Magic used so much stamina… 

"You'll be fine." He pointed to the bookshelf. "Do you mind if I do a bit of research?" 

"Of course I do not." He laughed a little before going to the books. "What are you looking up?" 

"I'm making sure I remember the rules of the Landsmeet, especially the duels." Ah, yes, I remembered that. 

"Why must it be settled in a duel again?" 

"It dates back to Calenhad, actually." He tugged out a book and flipped through it. I stood up and walked over, to see if I could help at all. "Basically, all disputes over the throne can lead to a duel, and if I know Loghain at all, then I know he will force a duel. He is far more confident in his martial skills than anything else, including his tacticial mind." 

"…Will you be okay?" I rested a hand on his arm, mostly to catch his attention. "You once called him 'uncle'…" 

"I did the same with Howe." Yes, that was true. "Duncan was also one of my 'uncles'." That was also true. "Regardless, though, Loghain is a threat and-" 

"A Cousland always does his duty." I sighed. "I could recite that in my sleep with how much you and Elspeth say it." He simply smiled sheepishly. "Oh, why do I even bother to ask? You will forge forward no matter what." 

"I'm sorry." He glanced at me before returning to his book. "You know… Loghain is actually rather similar to Calenhad." What? "He is a powerful warrior, a skilled tactician, but all the legends make it clear that Calenhad was _terrible_ administrator." 

"Is that so?" 

"He nearly ruined the country he created through infidelity, admittedly sparked by a love potion, and then left the fledgling kingdom in the hands of his _unborn son_ , Weylan the First, in order to track down his long-lost best friend." …What. "I am laughing a little at that." 

"I suppose it is good to find humor in all things." He laughed a little, and continued flipping through the book. I watched him skin over the words and realized something. It was just us two. I could… yes, I could. I only needed a bit of courage, and a deep breath to steady my nerves. These words… these words were what I wanted to say to him. "Nuada?" 

"Hmm?" His smile was warm and soft. I loved that smile. I liked to think it was a smile, just for me. "What is it?" 

"I…" Courage. I just needed a bit of courage. "I love you." He actually froze, eyes wide, book sliding from his hands to clatter to the ground. "I love you, Nuada." I stared right at him, even though I just wanted to run, scared suddenly. "I do not know exactly when it happened, but I realized it at Highever." 

He was silent, just staring, but I held my ground, waiting for his reaction. Whatever it was, I would accept it. 

Then, slowly, very slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed it over my hair, hovered it over my cheek. It was as if he was scared to touch me, like I would fall apart. So, instead, I reached out and took his hand, cradling it against my face, just as I had when he finally woke up at the Temple. His hand shook slightly, but that was fine. I loved holding his hand. 

As if that was the permission he was waiting for, his other arm snaked around my waist, tugging me into a tight, almost desperate hug. The hand that had been on my face tangled in my hair, cradling my head as he pressed me into him. "I love you too," he rasped in my ear. His voice was low, wavering, and it brought a smile to my face. "I love you too, Layla." I was so happy. "I'm scared." Hmm? "What if I can't bring you happiness…?" Nuada… "I know how I am." Yes, but I did too. It was okay. "What if…?" 

"Nuada." I shifted so I could whisper in his ear. "Nuada, I do not plan on simply sitting and waiting for happiness to come to me. I plan on seizing it for myself." He tensed, and made to pull away, but I wrapped my arms around him to keep him in place. He was so broad that I could not reach all the way around, so I clung to his back instead. "Though, I have already found it, right here, next to you, and in your arms." I tightened my grip on him. "So, do not worry about it. Let us just find happiness together." 

"…Yeah…" He shifted a bit, just a bit, his breath ghosting my mouth as he smiled so warmly at me. "Let's…" He leaned in, waiting for permission, and when I closed my eyes, he kissed me softly, gently. 

If time just… stopped, right then, I would not have minded, not one bit. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And that's two couples down! Yay! (or something) I… ah… hope you enjoyed? The knowledge that duels for the throne are a tradition stems from something Arl Wulf will say if the Warden tries to refuse the duel in the Landsmeet. Information about Calenhad is available in the codex. Karl is a character featured in DA2, but dialogue there, and Anders's profile in the World of Thedas volume 2, make it clear Karl and Anders were lovers until Karl was moved from the Tower to the Gallows in Kirkwall. 
> 
> Next Chapter – A little more resting with Aiden 


	85. Chapter 74) Unhealing Wound

Chapter 74) Unhealing Wound 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_I couldn't breath. The Chantry sister was singing prayers. The Alienage was in mourning. I couldn't breath. Father was burning. Father had died, and he was now burning, and now I was alone. Yes, I had my cousins, but… but I would never, ever, be able to see my parents smile again. Hear their praise. Roll my eyes at how sickeningly sweet they could be._

_I felt something in me breaking as my father burned. And now, I had no one to turn to for help putting everything back together._

* * *

It was… very strange. Lord Nuada and Mistress Layla were courting now. At least, I think that was the word. I had no other word for Lord Nuada taking Mistress Layla for walks through the garden, giving her flowers, or the two of them just sitting next to each other, leaning into each other as they read or discussed something. It was a common sight to see Mistress Layla giggling over something Lord Nuada whispered in her ear, blushing red as he kissed her hand, or to see Lord Nuada smiling softly with narrowed as, as if he was looking at the sun itself, and loving every bit of the light. 

Not that Mistress Layla was here right now. Lord Nuada and I were in the library, supposedly discussing the Landsmeet. But we hit a lull, and I noticed Lord Nuada automatically leaned a little in his chair, as if expecting Mistress Layla to be there, and it just made me think about it, and how different it was from Morrigan and Cleon's relationship. I was certain _those_ two were having sex right now, since both had been 'conveniently missing' earlier today. I was only half-certain Lord Nuada and Mistress Layla had even kissed. 

"So, is that everything you needed to know about the Landsmeet?" Lord Nuada prompted. I grimaced a bit. I hadn't _liked_ the idea of neutral, because of what happened last time, but I got why. He and Elspeth _could not_ in the situation we had. Alistair couldn't. But if the rest of us were, we had an alternative route to forcing the duel. "I'm sorry I sprung this on you. I thought I said it already." 

"It's fine. I understand," I reassured. Still, I sighed. "I'm just… I'm just going to hope that the Landsmeet will do what it's supposed to do with minimal 'in the spotlight' work on my end." 

"Glad you acknowledged shadowy work, because there's no way we can't do that. We need evidence of Loghain's crimes for a Landsmeet to make the accusation of Oathkeeper hit all the harder." 

"And nothing ever seems to get _done_ until we're around." I couldn't help how dry my voice was, and Lord Nuada snickered. "But, regardless, yes, that is what I needed. Thank you for-" 

"You're too formal." 

…Well then. "Thank you, truly, for enlightening me on the complexities of the Landsmeet." I grinned when he shot me a dirty look. "Sorry, I had to." 

"Yeah, yeah." Lord Nuada laughed, but soon grew serious. "If that's the case, then there is something Cleon asked me to bring up with you." Huh? "Feel free to tell me to sod off." 

"What is it?" 

"You and he had a conversation about relationships in the Roads." Oh. That. _That_. "He wanted me to see if you are ready to talk about what makes you so afraid." 

"…" I sighed, closing my eyes as I leaned back in my chair. That… "I think… I have figured that out." 

"Are you willing to talk?" 

"…I think so." Without another sigh, I debated looking at him, but decided against it. This would be easier if I pretended I was just thinking aloud. "My father died six months after my mother did." I heard some sympathetic noise. "Mother died to some humans. I can't remember how or why now. Father, though… no one could figure it out. They ruled the death from 'a broken heart' or something." 

"There are some healer mages doing research into something they're calling 'broken heart syndrome'. The initial paper I found was… fascinating and sobering." 

It made me feel a bit better about the death, to know that it was being looked into as an _actual thing_ and not just… just something said to be melodramatic. "In the weeks preceding my father's death, I could see him falling apart. It was like some piece of him, some part he had given Mother, had died with her, and he never got it back. Like he was less of himself." Now, I opened my eyes, and looked at Lord Nuada. He remained quiet, just listening. "It's like that poetic saying of 'giving someone your heart', but it never came back. And I… I'm afraid of that. I'm afraid of giving someone a piece of me, and never getting it back. Of _losing_ that piece and wasting away." I shuddered as I remembered how Father had looked before he died. "An unhealing wound that just drains and bleeds until you're nothing but a skeleton with some skin attached." I smiled wryly, trying to joke it off. "Isn't that stupid?" 

"…No." Lord Nuada smiled kindly at me. "Aiden, remember, my mother stayed behind when Highever fell. It wasn't just because she was the lady of the house. If anything, her duty should have demanded she live to take care of things until reinforcements arrive. She stayed because she loved Father." …Ah… "So, I think it makes sense." 

"Any advice?" 

"I suppose just weigh things. Do you love someone more than you are afraid of love itself?" He took out a book from the shelf, frowning over it. "And if the answer becomes 'yes', then you must decide if you have the courage or not." 

"Are you afraid? Of loving Mistress Layla, I mean." 

"I'm terrified. Historically speaking, those that love Couslands don't have an easy time of things, or have happily ever afters." 

"There's no such thing as a happy ending, though. You can stop it at a happy point, but if you continue the story long enough, it's going to end in tragedy." 

"Because everyone dies. Wardens, more so." Lord Nuada laughed. "So, give me an unconventional beginning, and a happy middle. Endings are always sad." 

"Yes." I sighed, and sat up straight in my chair. "If you can forgive my changing the subject…" 

"I think you need it." Lord Nuada smiled. "Ah, but it does remind me. I was wondering if you can talk to Alistair at some point before the Landsmeet." 

"For?" 

"You were thrown into the role of Commander, in you'll recall." I scowled at that memory. "You accepted it, and you're doing _marvelously_ , and I am going to cackle when all of this is over and all the humans have to admit that an elf is a better leader than them." …Well now, I was flushing. And smirking. Because that _was_ a fun thought. "Actually when you think about it, I'm the only one of the group most of society would deem a 'proper' hero." 

"A city elf born in the slums, a dalish elf raised in the woods, a human mage of the Circle… and the properly born nobleman from an old as dirt family." 

"Exactly." …We both burst into laughter. "Oh, the stories! The way the Chantry is going to try and change things to make things 'acceptable'." 

"It's… darkly humorous." I couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous it was. "So many hypocrites are going to show themselves. Someone is going to 'forget' Cleon and I are elves." 

"Or, worse, write it as if Cleon was a 'black sheep' among the Dalish who believed in the Maker over the 'heathen elven gods' or whatever nonsense." Now we were both just guffawing, bending over the table. "They'll call Mistress Layla's magic 'miracles'." 

"They'll write out that she's a blood mage. They'll write out how many times we wanted to hit you over the head because you're so scarred up from your upbringing." 

"We'll be crushing armies, and they'll ignore how much pain we went through." I was _crying_ because I was laughing so damn hard. "And our companions! How they'll twist things there!" 

We just dissolved into laughter, and it wasn't long before Wynne tentatively poked her head into the library to come check on us. Neither of us could stop laughing enough to explain, but we did end up apologizing a lot because she worried we had hit our heads really hard and started giving us lots of medicines to 'cure' the mad laughter. 

But, at the same time, I couldn't… really regret laughing so much. 

* * *

The day passed blissfully and peacefully, dragging on and on. I was running out of things to do. You couldn't train all day, not if you valued your body, I had no intentions of gorging myself on food and drink, the library only had a handful of books I _could_ read… I was bored. I was horribly bored. Something must be wrong with me. I should be glad that I had the chance to just sit around and do nothing. I should be glad that I had the chance to just sit and relax with Cleon, Lord Nuada, and Mistress Layla, all four of us clustered in a cozy little room with the fire going on. 

"Oh, Cleon, you and Wynne got a letter from a 'Dagna'," Mistress Layla murmured, sighing with one hand and pulling a letter from her pocket with the other to pass it to him. She immediately leaned back into Lord Nuada, shifting in her seat on the couch. "It is something about how she is safely within the Circle?" …That dwarf girl had been real? Well, damn, I really had thought that was something Wynne had made up. "I never thought I would see the day where a dwarf was enrolled, but it has apparently happened before." Cleon smiled softly, apparently very pleased. "She is studying lyrium and enchantments." That… was weird? Why would dwarves be interested in magic? They couldn't use it. "She has a few experimental ones that she plans on sending to us." …Wait, what? _What_? "We will need to find someone skilled at setting runes…" 

"I know someone in Denerim," Lord Nuada answered. He shifted a bit so Mistress Layla was resting a little more comfortably against his shoulder, and flipped the page of his book. "Bodhan and his son, Sandal, are technically traveling merchants, but I have little doubts they're in Denerim now. The season is right for it, and with the roads dangerous…" True… "I also know an amazing smith too. His name is Wade. He's a bit of a perfectionist, and his partner, Herren, charges a lot, but… well, money isn't really an object for our little group." That… was actually true. It… really wasn't. …I never had to not worry about money before. "Elspeth and I can handle those sorts of things." 

"Can we just make you 'leader' while we're in Denerim?" I asked dryly. Lord Nuada grinned and I sighed. "No, of course not. Whatever." I felt my fingers twitch, though. I was getting antsy. We hadn't stayed so still in so long. I honestly felt like we had been moving almost non-stop since… since I was conscripted in the Alienage. Sure, we had a day or so of rest, but… we were coming on a week. And there was _still_ a lot of time before the Landsmeet. 

'I. Am. So. Damn. Bored.' Cleon's signs were crisp and concise, hovering in the air as he sprawled on his back. 'There is nothing to do,' he continued, scowling at the ceiling. I was relieved I wasn't the only one who was feeling antsy. 'Well, actually, there is everything to do, but we can't _do_ anything until some nobles move their asses.' Yeah… 'I feel like I am going to snap, like an over-strung bow.' 

"…W-well, I might have something?" Mistress Layla squeaked. She picked up a book sitting by her and held it up. Lord Nuada shifted to sign for her. "It talks about a fortress called Soldier's Peak." I… vaguely knew it. "It used to belong to the Wardens." It did? 

"It was built in the Glory Age, a few decades after the Second Blight," Lord Nuada rattled off. "Completed within a decade, I believe, thanks to Fereldan remembering the archdemon. It's been empty for two ages, thanks to the Wardens being banished because they broke the neutrality rule." There was an awkward little pause. "You know, if this plan goes really bad, we're going to get the Wardens expelled again." Ahaha… ha… "Anyway, mon coeur…" The signs Nuada used were 'my heart'. Something told me we were going to be learning a _lot_ of terms of endearment in the various languages of Thedas. "Why do you bring it up?" 

"I was thinking it might hold some information about the Archdemon." That… was true. We had _seen_ the Archdemon. We were fighting the Blight. But damn if we knew anything about it. At least, anything that wasn't common knowledge. And Wardens kept secrets. "It would also… ah… give us something to do?" Very true. 

"If we are going by that logic, schatz…" The sign was 'treasure'. Yeah, we were seriously going to be learning this. Whether we wanted to or not. "Then there is another place we should go for information." 

"Where?" 

"Ostagar." The entire room froze. It felt like even the fire had quieted. "We need to return to Ostagar, and see if there is any information on _this_ Blight." That… was true. That was true. 

"…You are both correct," I whispered, settling back in my armchair. I glanced at Cleon, curious what he thought, but he simply nodded. "So, we split up again?" 

'Sure, but we are _not_ deciding this time.' Cleon signed 'not' four times. 'We just cannot make it,' he continued, eyes hard. 'I… will not go to Ostagar.' And neither would I. For some of us, Ostagar… was an unhealing wound. And I wasn't in a hurry to prod the area and make it bleed. 

"I made the suggestion, so I'll go," Lord Nuada answered. He was perfectly nonchalant. So perfectly that I knew he was hiding his own hesitancies. And why not? He had been in the Tower. He lost _family_ there. 

"I will go with you," Mistress Layla whispered. He gave her an incredulous look and she smiled sweetly at him. "You might find King Cailan's body, and I do not want you to hide." She took his hand, and I switched over to signing with an amused look. "Besides, I want to see how we got trapped at the top. I have an idea, but it would be nice to be certain." Ah, right… "So…" 

"You are, as always, as kind as you are beautiful." Lord Nuada took her hand and kissed it with a small smile. Cleon and I exchanged an amused look, and Cleon playfully pretended to be drowning in the sweetness. "So, that's that. Let's let the others know and leave in the morning?" 

"That is the best news I've heard in a while," I replied, doing my best to pretend Cleon and I hadn't been teasingly mocking them. Instead, I laughed at another thing. "When peace comes, we're going to be in a lot of trouble." 

'We get peace?' Cleon's signs were so droll that the whole room burst in laughter. 'We will just find the next bit of trouble. And laugh at how stupid it is for facing us!' True. Very true. 

We would never have 'peaceful' lives. But we would have happy ones until our deaths. And I was perfectly content in that. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: And here is why Aiden is oblivious to love. Also, welcome to the next 'arc' of Saga: the DLC. Broken-Heart Syndrome, or its more medical term of Stress/Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, is a very real thing that is being researched. (The terms of endearment Nuada says are me just looking some things up on google, and I do not claim I am even using this grammatically correctly.) 
> 
> Next Chapter – Traveling with Lord Nuada 


	86. Chapter 75) Lament of Lothering

Chapter 75) Lament of Lothering 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_During one stop at Lothering, I noticed something strange. There was a man actually talking to the Chasind, and it looked like a pleasant conversation. You didn't see that normally, especially in Fereldan._

_I was so curious that I actually left the group to get closer, just to try and listen. I must have made a noise or something, because the Chasind suddenly stiffened, and the man turned to face me. "Ah, hello there, child," he greeted. He bowed to the Chasind and came over to me. "Are you lost?"_

_"No, I'm not," I answered. "I was just curious."_

_"About the Chasind?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Now, now, don't you know what everyone says?"_

_"I think the scholar known as 'Everyone' has many, many books out with wrong information." The man laughed at that. "I'd rather make my own opinion."_

_"I hope my children have the same mentality."_

_"You have kids?"_

_"I have five of them, four girls and a boy." Wooow… "I think the middle one is your age. Twelve?" He laughed again at my nod. "I seem to have not lost my touch. Well, child, if you will help me carry a few things, I do not mind sharing my knowledge."_

_Really?! "I would like that. Thank you, mister…?"_

_"Malcolm, child. Call me Malcolm."_

* * *

The group to Ostagar consisted of Alistair, Wynne, Shale, Oghren, Layla, and me. The rest headed north to the former stronghold of the Wardens. It was all nice and fine… until we came upon Lothering. The place… the lively city of my memories… the scared town filled with refugees… it was nothing, _nothing_ but a ruin now. 

Not one of us made a sound as we stared at the Tainted land. Nothing would grow here. Nothing _could_ grow here. There would likely never be a 'Lothering' again. 

"So, this is how the Blight messes with the surface," Oghren finally growled. He glanced uneasily up at the sky before focusing on the ruins. "Like the thaigs, but something about it seems sadder. Maybe it's all the light." Yeah, ruins might look creepy in the dark, but it just looked pathetic with all the sunshine. "We need to find a place to make camp. Away from here. Two of us still aren't Tainted, and I'd like to keep it that way." It was a damn _miracle_ that not one of our companions had caught the Taint yet. It really was. 

"Let's split up to look for something, then," I whispered. I dragged my attention away and tried not to think of how, just a few short weeks ago, months ago, we had been protecting an over-full city. Had they all escaped? "Someone name the groups." 

"Well, you and Layla must be paired together, as you two make my teeth hurt, and I'm supposed to be sitting up in an armchair by the fire, knitting baby-boots," Wynne _immediately_ replied. While Layla squeaked in embarrassment, I simply smiled and shrugged. "How about I go with Shale, and Alistair and Oghren pair up?" 

"If everyone else agrees, I don't mind." No protests. Well, well, it seemed a little sobering reminder of what we were trying to prevent did wonders to making everyone cooperative. I was so sure Shale would protest on principle. "Shale, if there are any birds, leave them be, okay?" 

"I suppose I can _try_ ," Shale sighed heavily, sounding so mournful. It got a laugh out of us. "But if they defecate on me, all bet's are off." With that lovely warning, she stomped off, Wynne following her. Alistair and Oghren went a different way. 

With a shrug, I offered Layla my hand, and lifted hers when she gave me it to kiss gently. I loved how her face lit up with both a smile and blush. "Pick a direction?" I asked. "Though, we could always let the others do the work." 

"You would be all right with it for a grand total of five seconds," Layla retorted. She bit her lip before leaning up to give me a quick kiss. "I had been wanting to do that." …Well, now I was the one who was a little dazed. There was so much going on that getting giddy over things like this seemed silly. But emotions were silly. So. "Let us head that way." She pointed towards the outskirts of town. "I believe Elspeth, Aiden, and Cleon had set up their own camp in this direction." Mmm, that was true. It might be good to see if it was still viable. If not, then maybe we could find the spot in the woods where we had made camp after leaving Lothering. 

Slowly, the two of us walked around the former town, glancing around for something that looked… well… safe. But everywhere we looked, we just saw… there were charred bodies. There was Tainted land. There were shattered ruins. Crops were rotting in the ground. Starved animal corpses. This was… 

Oh, it also started snowing. The first snow of the year was falling on the ruins of fallen Lothering. The bards would have _fun_ with that. For now, though, the snow just meant we needed to find a place to shield us from the snow. 

"Oh, are you two travelers?" There… was a person here. There was a living person here. "Refugees?" she asked, voice wavering slightly. "Are you taken care of?" 

"We are fine, ma'am," Layla answered. She gave me an incredulous look. "We… we are simply looking for a place to stay the night." 

"We're heading to Denerim," I added, lying just a little. "Do you know of a place? Where are you staying?" 

"Oh, I am in a village to the north, nowhere near where you are going. I was just heading back there when I saw you lot. Going to meet the templar who guided me here." She must be from Lothering, then, and came to pay her respects. "You can stay in the Hawkes' place." Hawke… I knew that name. Ah, yes, I definitely knew that name. I had met some of the family. "It's just right up there." She pointed and, from here, I could make out the roof of a rather pretty farmhouse. It looked… remarkably intact all things considered. "Don't know how Malcolm managed to build that place so well. It hasn't needed repairs since he and his family moved here ten year ago." That… was saying something. "Maybe he was a mage. Vesta was, at least." 

"Vesta?" 

"Second oldest child of the family, but they disowned her when she was outed as a mage last year and she ran from the templars." …That seemed… "You sure you two will be fine?" 

"Yes, ma'am," Layla answered. She smiled sweetly. "You have our thanks. Will you be all right?" 

"Yes, I just got to climb the hill here. Avoid the pass to the west. There are still darkspawn corpses there, including an ogre." Who in flames killed an ogre? They couldn't have been a Warden, right? "Rest well, and stay safe." 

"You too!" Both of us waved goodbye to the old lady, watching her disappear into the distance. 

As soon as she was gone, though, I let myself frown. "…Diana was a mage, though," I whispered. I remembered that. "So, why…?" 

"I imagine they had to disown her to save the rest of the family from the templars," Layla answered sadly. I leaned over to kiss her cheek, to try and get a smile. I got one better: a giggle. "It happens sometimes. They must have kept up the story in Ostagar to prevent it from rippling back." That just… "I hope they are all right." 

"I do as well." I looked back at the ruined Lothering. "This used to be such a happy city. The Blight ruined it." That was… lamentable. I felt sorry for the people. "We only bought a bit of time." 

"The time we bought, though, saved people." That was true. "Let us get the others and get set up in the house." 

"Lead on, ma cherie." 

* * *

The house was really well built. It was nice and cozy, even before we set up the fireplace. We had some difficulties getting Shale inside, but we were all in and curled up to sleep by the time the snow began falling in earnest. 

Well, everyone else was asleep. I, however, decided to wander about the house. It seemed the Hawkes, or looters, had cleared the place of valuables. However, there were little things I could see that were priceless. On the doorframe to the kitchen, I saw a height chart. Initials and dates besides the marks gave a clear picture of physical growth. Looking at it, I could see 'C' was the tallest, followed closely by 'M'. 'D' and 'V' were about the same height, while 'B' was easily the shortest of the four. Seven years of growth were marked here. I could see the ground in stains in the floor, likely marking some funny spill. Books were scattered in the bedrooms, tales of old lovingly marked and folded. A tattered little doll was tucked away under the bed, resting at last after a lifetime of adventures. 

This was a house filled to the brim with memories. It was sad they had to leave it. 

"Nuada, what are you doing awake?" I turned at Wynne's voice, and saw her gently smiling at me. "Could you not sleep?" she asked softly, walking over to stand beside me. "The journey will be hard, you know." 

"I just wanted to look around," I explained. I gestured to the house. "It felt… wrong to not look around. This is a house with history to it." 

"It's a house with magic to it. I can sense the magic within the walls still. Whoever built this place was a powerful, talented, and _intelligent_ mage." She laughed a little. "I can see the scorch marks in one of the bedrooms, where a child mage practiced. There's also a warded room much like we have in the Circle, for lessons." 

"…Makes what that woman say about Vesta being 'disowned' seem less plausible." 

"I found a half-written letter hiding in the floorboards of the room I took up. It's addressed to a 'Gamlen Amell', talking about how a 'Malcolm' died. Despite that, though, there's evidence that there were six people living in this house." …Ah. 

"Basically, just word talk." 

"Just keeping her safe." Wynne sighed. "I am for the Circle, of course, but it seems these children had what many children mages do not have. Love, family, a sense of companionship, someone to keep them safe." Wynne smiled slightly. "I didn't have those things. My earliest memory was lying in a hayloft. It was in the Circle I found safety, sanctuary." She sighed heavily, eyes closed. "I was… scared of losing that. So, I gave up my own son." 

"You… have a son?" 

"Yes, I named him 'Rhys', but who knows if they actually gave him that name." She smiled bitterly. "When Layla came to me, asking for advice on her feelings, I tried to warn her against it. She has always been a dutiful child, but the choice between the Circle and Jowan was nearly enough to break her. I had feared something similar would happen. I know the pain, dearly, of choosing duty, and losing your love because of it." I… had no reply to that. "I was wrong, though. She is stronger than I thought, and you are good to her, good for her. She is laughing and smiling again." 

"…I do what I can." 

"I know. And so long as you continue to do so, I won't turn you into a toad." She laughed when I made a face. "Ah, but I suppose I should act like a nagging mother. Come; let us have some tea, and I will tell you stories of Layla when she was a child." Oh, now this I had to hear. "And I mean it, Nuada. You are very good for her, and she is for you. Despite my teasing, I am very happy to see you two together." 

"And your opinions on the rest of the couples?" 

"I think Cleon's influence is changing Morrigan, for the better, and her presence helps soothe a horrible ache. Whether or not it is something that will _last_ , I am not certain. But I think the relationship is good for them both as well, and even if it ultimately leads to them separating, they will remain good friends." She smiled slyly. "I reserve my opinion on the other, potential, couples until they finally stop dancing around each other." 

"Fair enough. So, those stories." 

"Ah-ah. Tea first." 

"Of course, how ever could I forget my manners! Here, sit down at the table. I don't make _as_ good of tea as Elspeth, but I'm not bad at it. Let me spoil you." 

"I'll take it." And Wynne smiled. "You are a good and kind child, Nuada. I'm glad to have met you." 

"…Glad to have met you too, Wynne." I smiled at her. "Now, seriously, relax and let me spoil you a bit." 

"Very well." 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: In game, Lothering is destroyed and, thus, inaccessible after the first main quest is completed. But I did wish we could have seen pieces of ruined Lothering, since we didn't really get to see it in DA2 either (I think? Maybe there was a camera angle that let you). So, I showed it, and also brought up the Hawke family. (When I originally wrote the Ostagar and Lothering chapters, Vesta Hawke did not exist. Now she does, because there's a very specific thing I want to do and I can't couple it into the other two. Sorry.) 
> 
> The title of the chapter comes from the item Lothering's Lament, used in DA2 to give free experience points. I never gave her name, but the old lady that appears here is Miriam, the village elder who gives you a quest or two when you're actually in Lothering. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Heading to the Keep with Cleon 


	87. Chapter 76) Snowy History

Chapter 76) Snowy History 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Tamlen, stop targeting only me!" Lyna yelled, thoroughly annoyed. "It's boring!"_

_"Well, it's either you or Cleon!" Tamlem justified. He lobbed another one at her, but she ducked. "You're easier to hit!"_

_"Get over here and say that aga-WHOA!" I snickered from my spot in the tree as a bunch of snow went flying. Merrill had used magic. "Merril, no magic!"_

_"It wasn't supposed to be that big!" Merrill squeaked. She flailed a bit, eyes wide. "I'm sorry!"_

_"Oh, it's okay. Just don't use magic. Build up those arms!" Still, Merrill looked ready to cry. This was her first winter with Sabrae._

_So, I jumped down and headed to her side. "Let's switch teams," I suggested with a grin. "Me and Merrill versus you and Tamlen." Merrill gave me a grateful look. "That good?"_

_"Prepare to lose, Cleon!"_

* * *

Snow. Snow, snow, and more snow. I had been startled to see it, but after checking with a village on the date, Aiden and Elspeth agreed that snow was very common at this time of year, especially in the north. We were, after all, in the middle of winter. It just startled me, since there had been no snow anywhere else. And it also startled me that we were only just now in winter. Hadn't it been summer when we fought in Ostagar? Or was I misremembering? I couldn't remember, and my sense of time was very, very warped. 

'Arlessa Sophia Dryden was one of the two contenders for the throne early in the Storm Age.' As we hiked through the snow, more or less unprepared because none of us had expected such weather, Elspeth was giving us history lessons. I felt like I was with the Clan again, traveling to where we would make our next camp, but I didn't mind. Honestly, I liked it. 'When her rival, Arland, was voted King by the Landsmeet, she refused to relent,' she continued, signs light and crisp. She really was most at home where she could gain and share knowledge. 'In order to prevent a civil war, she was forcibly conscripted into the Grey Wardens.' 

'Why would that have led to a civil war again?' Zevran asked. He looked thoughtful, signs dancing. 'Because it is normally around this time assassin business booms.' 

'She was originally slated for execution, but the vote had been close, and her allies continued supporting her despite it. It was feared her death would be seen not as a traitor's death, but as a martyr.' Elspeth was smiling softly even as she explained. Yeah, she loved this far more than battles. I hoped, when all of this was over, she would be able to return to such things. 'Sophia survived the Joining, and the leadership and charm that won her supporters dazzled the Wardens. She eventually became the Warden-Commander, and thanks to her political connections, she was able to reinvigorate the Wardens, when they had been seen as a relic of older times, and unnecessary.' 

'Foolish.' Sten's signs were crisp and the stoic expression he had gave them exasperation. 'You can see the results of such mentality,' he noted, gesturing around. Even though things were peaceful here, we got the meaning. 'Was it because it was a useful tool they could no longer remember the use for?' 

'That is a good analogy, but not quite perfect,' Elspeth replied. I noticed Morrigan shivering next to me and gave her my cloak. 'So many darkspawn died during the Fourth Blight that surfacers truly believed they were all killed. Knowledge of how darkspawn are… created…' Her hand shook slightly. I had taken upon myself to warn the females in our group about Broodmothers. Never seen all five of them so quiet. 'Regardless, it was not so much they forgot, but that they did not it a needed tool anymore. Without darkspawn, Wardens are simply a neutral army. Templars and Chevaliers are easily their equals in might.' …Chevaliers? What was that? 'Regardless, while she was doing this, Arland was proving to be…' She stopped walking for a bit, eyes closed as she attempted to think of the words. 

'I am guessing he was not a kind king,' Leliana helpfully prompted. Elspeth nodded, but still didn't move. The rest of us just shrugged and decided the breather was probably a good idea. We did need water, and the like. 'So…? 

'Historians agree that he was ultimately chosen for being young, easily manipulated,' Elspeth finally began to sign. Her eyes were soft, sad. 'But it was not long before he proved himself immoral, ruthless. If even half of his crimes are true, even Howe looks like a charming person.' …Well, damn. 'He would wipe out entire families for idle words. He would have commoners flogged to death for something as simple as crossing his path. It was a reign of terror. He remains the only legitimate king of Fereldan my family rebelled against.' Her smile turned very wry. 'My family paid dearly for that, when he learned about the rebellion. He hunted down anyone in Fereldan with familial ties, leaving only a single successor to the throne, a three-year-old child, who escaped into Lowever." 

'That…' Leliana's hands shook as her eyes widened. 'Maker, how horrible.' 

'The rebellion was centered on Sophia, and it almost succeeded, but Arland's spies managed to crack their coded message. As he hunted down the noble rebels, he cut the Wardens off from everything and laid siege to Soldier's Peak in year five of the Storm Age. Some Wardens left, disgusted, but many others stayed. After several months, the siege ended in Sofia's death and Arland's triumph. The Dryden family was stripped of all lands and titles and forced into hiding, hunted like animals out of fear of them taking up the rebellion. I believe her brother and son escaped into Antiva, but that's less certain.' 

'This is also what led to the Wardens being exiled,' Aiden signed. He looked thoughtful. 'You and Nuada told us that part before.' I think it was at Ostagar. 'And so, for 200 years, the Wardens were forbidden to come to Fereldan.' And now, here we were. With a Blight. '…I am not certain if we said this before, but either Fereldan is really unlucky or the Archdemon is incredibly tactical to start it all here.' That was true, but the mood was starting to droop. 

I didn't want that. For once, just once, we were safe and fine. We were traveling together. We deserved to have a bit of fun. So, I bent down, scooped up some snow, and threw it at Aiden. It hit him straight in the face, and Aiden just froze, blinking slowly, like he couldn't _believe_ this was happening. 

So, Zevran was the one who retaliated. I ducked so it would hit Morrigan, and _she_ used magic to launch snow at all of us. From there, it just devolved into most of us in having a huge snowball fight. 

Only Sten didn't get involved, standing apart. But I could tell, even in his exasperation, he was rather fond of watching us play, so it was okay. 

* * *

We made camp sometime that night, in a cave to protect us from the snows. As we did so, though, Elspeth had found and sent Zevran off ahead for some reason. When I gave her a questioning look, she had signed that she just remembered something about the Keep and sent Zevran to check if she was remembering correctly before raising a panic. I went along with it, since it wasn't her _forgetting to tell us_. 

That said, the grim look on Zevran's face when he returned, and the way Elspeth sighed, told me she had been correct. 'You were right, Elspeth,' he signed. He flopped down next to Aiden and downed the water Leliana gave him. 'The main pass _is_ cut off.' …What. 

'I am sorry,' Elspeth signed. Her eyes were sad, and she curled into herself to make herself smaller. It startled me when I saw Morrigan scoot over to let Elspeth lean into her. The look on her face told me it startled her too. 'I only remembered when we were near here. The Wardens collapsed the main pass to force Arland's forces into the mine shafts below.' 

'Those are still clear.' Still, there was a depressive mood over us now. We had expected we could at least _get_ to the place before trouble erupted. 'That said, I did see old markings in the shafts that I checked. It's likely the path is marked.' It would just be longer than us walking up. 'More complicated, but…' 

'It is setback, not a journey-ender,' Aiden signed. He shifted to smile at Elspeth, and only looked away when she half-heartedly smiled back. 'The main difficulty is that we have to arrive in Denerim for the Landsmeet, so we do not have as much time to wander.' That was true. 'So… Sten, what is it?' 

I glanced up to see Sten was standing now, heading to the entrance of the cave. 'Someone approaches,' he signed. All of us tensed. Morrigan had a spell in hand, and Elspeth and Leliana reached for their bows. 'Too clumsy to be an attacker. But an unusual place nonetheless.' 

'Who is the best at reading weather among us?' There was a bit of awkward fidgeting, before I tentatively raised my hand. 'You mind, Cleon?' 

'I do have _training_ in it…' I signed, making my signs tentative to make it obvious that this might not be accurate. I just seemed to be the only one with the base of knowledge. 'So, let's see…' I pushed myself up and leaned out. I thought of Zaphikel and all he taught me. _He_ had been very good at this. If I could read just half of this, then… 'No blizzard, but temperature is going to plummet fast.' I glanced back and saw Leliana moving out. 'Getting him?' She nodded and darted off. 'Guess we better prepare another bowl.' 

We had just got it dished out, along with a spare blanket, when Leliana returned with the man. He was smiling, and his posture implied a great amount of gratitude. He even bowed when he sat down and all but inhaled the soup we gave him. Elspeth and Morrigan shared a look before giving him some more. This one he ate more slowly. 

'Thank you again,' the man was saying. Zevran signed for me. 'My name is-' He waited to continue as Zevran spelled out his name, so I assumed Leliana had warned him already. Still, I was surprised by the name. Levi _Dryden_. 'What brings some travelers out here, though? If I'm not being rude.' 

'You are not,' Aiden reassured. I noted with some amusement that, without really meaning too, we had arranged ourselves so that he was in the center of the group, and Levi sitting opposite him. It just… visually made it clear who was the leader. 'Cleon and I are Wardens, and we and our Companions are hoping to investigate the Keep here.' 

'Really?' Levi looked startled. 'That's… odd.' 

'How so?' 

'Well, truth is, before the Blight business started, I talked to Warden Commander Duncan, good man, about investigating the Keep." Wait, what. 'I'm sure you know why. I see you have Lady Elspeth Cousland in your number.' Elspeth smiled wryly. 'I'm sure you got a history of the place.' 

'She told us it on the way, yes. We learned about why they started the rebellion.' I knew it wasn't my imagination that Levi relaxed slightly at that. I guess being a Dryden in Fereldan had its problems. 'So, you talked to Master Duncan about it?' 

'Yeah, he was really interested about heading in. But then…' He shook his head. 'Well, I'm sure you lot know more about Ostagar than I ever will.' He shrugged, but I saw his eyes were sad. 'I came to try and brave the path on my own. I went through, once, as a child. I was going to show him.' He was…? Creators, what are you plotting? 

'Then why not show _us_?' Aiden asked with a gentle smile. 'We hope to go there and see if there is information on Blights and the Archdemon.' 

'I will gladly assist.' Levi smiled back, and held out his hand. Aiden took it for a firm handshake. 'Well, talk about luck, yeah?' 

Yeah. Luck. It was completely and totally lucky. Which now just made me suspicious. What were we going to find there? 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: In game, Levi meets you at your party camp to tell you about the quest (and have you buy it if you haven't gotten it already). Since he actually is semi-involved in the plot of the DLC, I decided to have him join here. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Ostagar, with Layla 


	88. Chapter 77) Return to Ostagar

Chapter 77) Return to Ostagar 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_It… smelled horrible. The poor person was bloated and filled with maggots and flies, and just smelled horrible. What was going on? Why did they look that way?_

_"Layla!" Mommy gathered me up in her arms and carried me away. "You didn't touch the corpse, did you?" she asked me worriedly. I continued staring after the person lying in the alley. "Layla!"_

_"I'm fine, Mommy," I answered. "But what's wrong with them?"_

_"…They're dead."_

_"What's dead?"_

_"Dead is when your spirit returns to the Maker, and your body breaks down because of the long years it spent holding your spirit within a mortal vessel."_

_"That doesn't make sense."_

_"It will in time, Layla. Now come on."_

_"Yes, Mommy."_

* * *

There was snow. There was actually snow. I did not really know what to _do_ with snow. Yes, it snowed at the Tower, but we were not allowed outside until the paths had already been cleared. Only _then_ could we play. 

But it felt wrong, playing here. This was Ostagar, and the snow just made everything look… It was like a painting of a battlefield in a storybook. There were some blood, some dirt, and a lot of bodies. But nothing even smelled. 

"Why… are they not rotting?" I asked shakily as we all stood on the outskirts of the former camp. They should be. It had been more than long enough. The cold had not started until recently. "Why are they…?" 

"It's the Taint," Alistair answered. His eyes were hard, but his hands shook. "The Taint prevents rotting. Or maybe it's just severely slows it down. I'm not sure." That was… horrific. They all looked like they were just sleeping. "The barricades…" They had held them. They had held them, buying time for the handful to escape. "Maker, I feel really old." 

"Ah, so is this where I, resident expert of feeling old, should step in and give advice?" Wynne teased. Her smile was forced but the words had the intended effect of lightening the mood. "Or should Shale give that advice?" 

"My advice is to pummel everything," Shale _immediately_ deadpanned. That got us actually laughing. "You are older. Not wiser, of course, but older. Move forward." 

"…That is strangely inspirational," Alistair noted with easy good humor. "You feeling all right, Shale? Do you have a fever? Wait, do golems even _get_ sick?" 

"And that is the last time I say anything." I doubted that. "Move. Forward. Now." 

So we did, slowly. This was mostly because it was difficult trying to figure out a way past the barricades. Shale eventually just busted one wall down so we could continue on. But it was so eerie, walking through the camp. I remembered how lively it had been. The silence felt wrong. 

We split up unconsciously, hunting for clues to… well… anything really. Though Shale and Oghren just sort of went wherever, Wynne meandered towards the mage part of the camp. Alistair went to where the center fire had been, where Commander Duncan had waited for us after we had gone to the Wilds. I met Ser Jory and Daveth there, did I not? It was… strange, thinking of them. I had not in some time, because so much had happened. If they had survived the Joining, would they have been with us? Would they have died? 

"Here were Cailan and Loghain's tents," Nuada whispered after a moment. They were half-collapsed, thanks to the snow, and torn, thanks to weapons. "It's so strange seeing them." 

"It is," I agreed. I saw the opened chest and vaguely remembered something Cleon and Aiden had told me. "Was not Elspeth carrying a sword from here?" 

"Yes, it was Uncle Maric's blade. It's in Highever right now." Nuada's hands traced over the splintered desk, eyes sad and unfocused. "Since we needed speed to reach Redcliffe, she thought it would just be extra baggage. She should probably learn how to fight with it if she runs out of arrows. Leliana carries daggers for the purpose." For some reason, that made me giggle. "Now, what's so amusing?" 

"I just…" I hesitated, trying to think of how to explain. "I think I am just amused that, even after all we have been through, we are still learning? I do not know why that amuses me so much." 

"I suppose it's nice to have a remember that we _haven't_ seen everything yet." He smiled wryly. "Well, let's explore a bit more." 

"Yes…" Something about his demeanor told me he wanted to be alone for a bit, so I gave him a smile before making sure to head a different way than him. 

However, it seemed like no matter how much we wandered, how much we looked, we just found the same thing. There were shredded tents. There were shattered weapons. There was crushed armor. There was snow and mud hiding dried bits of blood. There were corpses upon corpses. Soldiers, Wardens, darkspawn, mabari, mages, and workers all died in the same way: horribly and filled with terror. Even those who had chosen to stay behind, or so I guessed by how their bodies still pressed against the barricades, had looked terrified. 

I suppose having a resolve to die did not remove the fear of it… 

I tried to head down from the camp to the battlefield, but found the way choked with corpses. So many people died trying to escape that… I could not even finish the sentence. Instead, I turned away and went to the bridge. The bridge was where I had watched the battle start, and I could still remember how it shook from the fire and siege weapons. I could still remember the terror of almost getting hit, but being pushed out of the way. I could almost _feel_ the rain coming down, even though there was not even snow at the moment, and the sky was clear. 

On the bridge, I could see Nuada had already gotten the same idea as I had, and gone to the center. But, for some reason, he was not moved. He was frozen, eyes wide. I could see him trying to smile, but he could not even make a broken one. What happened? What was going on? 

"Lass." I glanced down to see Oghren walk up, and he pointed to something in the distance. "Look up, lass," he whispered. "Blighted bastards, that's just unnecessary." Still not quite getting it, I looked up, and up, and up. Then I got it. Then I really got it. 

I almost did not recognize him. In my memory, King Cailan was a strangely vibrant man, almost like an over eager puppy, though in hindsight, I could see the strain in his eyes, the force in his smile. I remembered how kindly he had spoke to me, a scared mage of the Circle, and how he had promised Aiden he would look into the crimes against the Alienage. I remembered how he had given checked on Cleon's health after we got back from the Wilds. I remembered how he had lent us his tent to rest after the Joining. 

I remembered seeing him far below, charging into the fight. I remember hearing of his death and thinking of how sad it was. But this… this was just horrific. 

Up above, high above our heads, a strange patchwork of boards and armor had been set up. It swayed awkwardly in the wind, but that might have been because King Cailan, naked and covered in dried patches of blood, was pinned to it by large metal spikes. He was not even pinned 'gracefully' to it. It was like someone had just thrown him up and drove them in. 

I thought it was only through force of will that Nuada was not crying. It was either that or shock. 

"Maker, this is…" Alistair breathed, the first one of us to find any words. He slowly walked up to it, hand outstretched as if to snatch him down. But the body was out of reach, and there was a bitter smile on his face, as if he was not surprised at all. "Ha, even now, I can only just look up to him, unable to do anything to help." His hand shook as it came down to his side. "We should… see him to the Maker…" If we could, it would be nice. It would be nice to see _all_ of these poor people to the Maker. "…Please tell me I'm imagining that magic." I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as some… twisted magic filtered through the air. I whirled, trying to find the source, and spotted it immediately. There, at the end of the bridge, was a magic wielding darkspawn. The black-blue light flitted about, weaving into the corpses. My eyes widened when I saw the dead slowly stand up. Oh dear. "…Isn't necromancy blood magic? Demon magic? That's what we're taught in templar school." 

"It depends on what and how you do it," Wynne answered absently. She blinked slowly, startled by the skeletons shuffling towards us. "The Mortalitasi of Nevarra are not blood mages, but they do call spirits through to inhabit corpses." 

"That's because they believe that when someone dies, they displace a spirit, so it's only fair that the spirit gets the left over husk," Nuada added. He looked… rather exasperated. "Well, I wish we could say this is new, but we fought the dead in Redcliffe." 

"Yes, but these are darkspawn dead." 

"True. So, the order of the day is to complete erase the bastard that does this." 

"I can obliterate it in a spell, if it is this powerful," I noted. Nuada gave me a confused look and I smiled slowly. "Do you remember the Sloth Demon?" Nuada's face blanked for a brief moment before grinning viciously. "Shall we?" 

"Shale, cover the rear," Nuada ordered. "Pretend they're birdies and smash them." I thought Shale laughed. "Oghren, take point in front." Oghren _definitely_ laughed. "We're retaking Ostagar everyone!" 

* * *

I felt numb, being back in the Tower. In here, I remembered. I remembered being younger, and more terrified. I remembered still being afraid of fire. I remembered Nuada, Alistair, and I using secret tunnels to get around the darkspawn. I remembered fighting the ogre up top. I remembered lighting the beacon. I remembered falling unconscious and waking up to nothing being the same. 

In many ways, you could consider this the 'beginning' of it all. My 'origin' was at the Tower, and being recruited. I walked through the other 'origins' of my fellow recruits. But it was here in Ostagar where things began, truly. Ostagar was the end of being a simple Circle Mage, the end of being a Warden recruit. Ostagar was the beginning of being a full-fledged Warden, and… and a hero. That was the path we were walking. That is what our stories had become. This was a tale of heroes. 

It is funny how going back to the beginning made you realize just how much you changed. 

"Now this is a _massive_ hole," Oghren noted. We had meandered our way toward the first staircase, and came upon the pit that Alistiar, Nuada, and I had seen on the way up. "Guess this is how they ambushed you lot." 

"We can't get the door open," Wynne sighed. She was scowling at the door. "Why is it barricaded on the other side?" The only response was Nuada giving Wynne the drollest look. "To make it formidable enough that Shale can't break through?" The door was _dented_. 

"It would only take a few more punches," Shale defended, eyes narrowed in a scowl. "But much more will bring the ceiling down on you lot. Not that I care, mind. It might be fun to see you all burst." …Some days, I was not sure if Shale was really an 'ally' or not. "Are we jumping into the hole now?" 

"Well, we need to find that necromancer, and we clearly saw it come into the Tower." That was the only reason we were in here, really. I would have rather waited a bit to get my courage. "Though, how should we get down safely?" 

"The darkspawn left their ropes," Oghren pointed out. He tugged at them. "Not sure how Shale is getting down, but this should hold everyone's weight." 

"Shale can just jump." Wynne! "Who goes first?" No one moved. "…Well, I can't say I'm surprised." 

"I'll go first," Alistair, surprisingly, volunteered. "I want that Necromancer." His eyes were hard. "Who says he can't bring back the bodies of the soldiers?" …Oh, Maker, that was… "Heading down now." 

Alistair climbed down easily. Nuada followed him, and then Oghren. Shale jumped down after them, and Wynne and I brought up the rear. That was when I made a horrific realization. It was not just humans, dwarves, and elves that could be corrupted. Spiders could as well. 

"Why did it have to be spiders?!" I yelped, throwing fire freely, whipping it about like a rope to coil around the spider's legs. "Spiders, spiders, spiders!" I HATED SPIDERS! 

"Wow, you would have really hated the one we fought in Ortan Thaig," Oghren noted dryly. He casually smashed a spider's head with a maul he had found lying about the camp earlier. "Huge one. Great big spider queen." 

"AAAAHHH!" I just decided to ignite the air, turning webs into ash. "Get the away! Get them away!" 

"Lass, you faced down a High Dragon and darkspawn." 

"THOSE ARE DIFFERENT!" Someone casually picked me up. "Let me down and let me-mmph!" It took a couple of blinks to realize Nuada was kissing me. I was definitely torn between enjoying the kiss and being _very_ annoyed he was using it to shut me up. 

I debated leaning more towards the latter when I saw him smiling as he pulled away. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Wynne mentioned something about getting you to calm down quickly, and that was the first thing I thought of." 

"…The first thing you thought of to calm me down was to kiss me?" I deadpanned. Yeah, I was annoyed. "Why not something else? Why not a hug?" 

"Oh, it's probably because I always think a little about kissing you. I like it." …My face went red. "In retrospect, a hug or even just carrying away from the creepy crawlies would have done better." 

"…Do not use that method to shut me up again, and I will forgive you this once." 

"Your wish is my command, meine konigin." He bent down to whisper in my ear. "I'm scared of spiders too." 

"Really?" That… seemed so surprising. 

"Well, you'll be scared of a tiny little thing when you saw another kid your age get bit and die within a couple of days." He smiled wryly. "But they went scurrying when you burned the webs." That was reassuring. …However, this meant I now had to focus on the others after frankly embarrassing outburst. 

"I suppose I can add spiders to my list of things that must die," Shale deadpanned as I struggled to think of something to say. "I find them a minor annoyance, much less than birds, but I suppose killing them can do some good." Shale… 

"Don't do that," Wynne immediately scolded. She gave me a worried look, but relaxed when I smiled. "Spiders are very beneficial for the environment." Yes, well, they could do that _away from me_! "Though, I must admit to being a bit relieved." Wynne gave a soft smile. "It is a relief that you all do sometimes fall back into being young adults. I've been worried." Wynne… "Though, Layla, simply blasting them back with telekinetic spells such as Mind Blast would have sufficed." 

I could only groan in reply, and it made all of us laugh. I was glad to be of service? …It was nice to hear laughter in this place, at least. 

* * *

This was the battlefield. I never got to step foot on it. I was on the bridge, watching everything from above. I had watched the arrows fly, and the army charged. Cleon and Aiden fought here, though. They fought, killed, and watched others die around them. I saw all the bodies, and thought of how the original plan had been for Loghain to save them. He had not. Perhaps it was because he could not. Perhaps he was mad. But as I looked at all the bodies, I could only wonder what their last thoughts had been. 

I was certain the silence screamed how little they cared that Loghain might have been justified. They had depended on him, and they died because he did not follow through. Regardless of why, he still betrayed them. That… 

Magic sparked through the air, catching my attention. There, in the distance, was the Necromancer, black-blue magic rippling over the field. With that magic, the dead rose. The darkspawn, the soldiers, and the wardens all jerked awake, movements stilted like puppets. It… was awakening them _all_ , just to fight us. 

We started for the Necromancer, intent on just ending its life now. But a corpse stumbled up, blocking the path, and I could only gape. The body moved awkwardly, and there was an odd line on the neck. I was not sure if it was a slit throat or if magic was somehow holding a decapitated head on. But I knew the face. Commander Duncan… was the one blocking our path. 

"…I'll take him," Nuada ordered coldly. I heard him unsheathe his sword, and looked at him with wide eyes. While his face was stoic, I saw anger blazing in his eyes. "Deal with the rest." There was a definite growl to his voice. "We'll see how these Reaver tricks mix with Champion and Templar." Nuada… "Beware the ogre." I almost asked what he meant, but then saw it. The one ogre on the field with two glittering weapons sticking out of its chest was roaring in the distance. "Oh, and don't die. I will be most vexed." He lunged forward, and Commander's Duncan's corpse blocked the strike easily, movements sharp and fluid now. "Go." 

I did not hesitate, trusting him. I focused my attention solely on the necromancer, gritting my teeth as I saw it trying to run away. I would leave the others to fight the dead. _This thing was mine_ and I would _not_ let it play with the dead any more than it already had. 

I threw ice at it, freezing the ground under its feet to make it slip and buy me the time to catch up. It threw up a barrier to stop me, but I called on the Arcane Markings and slammed my rapier straight through it. It rolled out of the way, preventing me from just killing it there, and I slid on my own ice as I tried to catch it again. It almost seemed to laugh as it brought up more of the dead to fight. 

I surrounded myself in a whirlwind of flame, though, to turn the dead to cinders. I then used the flames to burn away the ambient magic in air to make Mana Clash cast all the faster. I ripped the magic from its body, turning it into nothing but a bloody mess. 

Well, that worked just as I said. When did _that_ happen? 

Clanging caught my ear, and I looked over at Nuada worriedly. He was still fighting Commander Duncan. For some reason, though, Commander Duncan refused to try and attack anyone else, despite Wynne being not far away, healing Shale, Oghren, and Alistair as they fought. Why focus on Nuada? Why not go for the easier target? It was like there was a line in the snow that he could not cross, even though Nuada _clearly_ had the advantage. It was like the battlefield was _his_. 

It was terrifying to watch him fight. I was used to him defending and giving orders. This, though… this was raw offensive power combined with strong defenses. Each injury Commander Duncan inflicted just seemed to make him stronger, but it was not as if Commander Duncan _got_ a lot of hits in. Those that he did seemed to be because he was just so damn _mad_ about something, like Nuada was taunting him. Truthfully, it almost seemed that Nuada's own strength was injuring him? 

I thought about prepping a healing spell, but as I reached out my magic, I had to recoil. There was _power_ there within Nuada, the terrifying power pulsing within dragons. I could heal him, but he would just get injured again. That was… that must just be how Reavers were. His Champion skills helped him minimize the damage, but that was just keeping him alive longer. 

I felt very real fear when I saw light wrap around his blade and he drove it straight through Commander Duncan's skull. Wrath of Heaven was a templar ability, and it often meant death for a mage. But he won, so that was good, right? 

I still hesitated, not really sure what to do as he stood over the corpse. Slowly, he lifted his head, and my eyes widened when I noticed his left eye, which had been transformed into silver, now had a slit pupil, much like a dragon's. I held my breath as he looked at me, only relaxing when he smiled wryly. I made sure to smile back, just… relieved. His fighting style was different. Clearly, being a Reaver had effects I could never imagine. But, ultimately, he was still the same person I fell in love with. I would talk to him later about this, of course, but for now, this was enough. 

So, instead, I focused on the others, and nearly screamed when I saw Alistair fighting the Risen Ogre, alone. He held his own well, mostly, but he was still _alone_ against that thing! Though, he was only alone because the rest of the corpses were in the way. I debated burning, or even seeing if manipulation of blood would work on corpses like this, but things were too hectic for me to try the former, and experimenting with blood magic seemed like a bad idea when my mind was so shaken. 

So, instead, I decided to try something else. When the ogre knocked Alistair's sword clear out of his hand, I caught it with telekinesis and wrapped it flame magic hot enough to make the sword glow. I then slung the sword, letting it fly straight and true, right into the Risen Ogre's neck. 

As it screeched, Alistair was already jumping, using the dagger and sword embedded in its chest to climb to his sword. He braced himself on its shoulders as he ripped the sword out of its neck in a spray of blood. As it reeled back, he used the momentum to easily fall, letting gravity help him carve a huge gash from collarbone to abdomen. Blood gushed out as it shrieked, and I saw the magic fading away as it fell. 

Alistair just stared at the fallen body, breathing heavily. Then, slowly, he lifted his head to look at me in question. I smiled wryly, pointing to the mess that remained of the Necromancer, and he slowly smiled back. 

I noticed he was crying, and _then_ I noticed I was too. So, I picked my way through the falling bodies and reached out for a hug that he gave willingly. 

This… this was what we needed. We had a _victory_ at Ostagar. It did wonders to ease the pain of that old, festering scar. It truly did. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So, here's the first 'half' of Return to Ostagar. Duncan's body is never seen, though it was confirmed by Bioware that he actually died, so… have him here. Showcasing Nuada's new Reaver abilities (following Inquistion mostly on it and Champion abilities). Layla's mention of burning away ambient magic is based on the Inferno passive Clean Burn, and her trick with the flying, burning sword comes from this badass scene in Witcher 3. 
> 
> Next Chapter – In the Keep with Aiden 


	89. Chapter 78) Warden's Keep

Chapter 78) Warden's Keep 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"And when the man tugged the ribbon off his love's head, her head fell off!" Shianni cackled at how everyone gasped in horror. "The end!" she declared with a cheerful grin. It was scary-story night in the Alienage, and Shianni was retelling one Mom had told her. "Oh, come on, you guys know something like that can't happen, right? Stop shaking."_

_"People also know ghosts don't exist, but that doesn't stop them from being scared of ghost stories," I pointed out, mostly to defend the others. They were shaking. "I guess I'm next, though."_

_"What? No, yours are always the scariest."_

_"It is just a simple ghost story." I grinned at her scowl. "So, once upon the time, there was a king and queen…"_

* * *

Levi led us through the tunnels easily, just as he said he would. So easily that I was a little surprised. Even going off memory, shouldn't we have had a couple of missed turns? But no, we just walked forward, and it was not long at all before we were looking at the Keep. Soldier's Peak, ancestral fortress of the Wardens. Why had no one used it since, though? 

"This place was simply abandoned?" Sten asked as we walked up the slope. "Wasteful." It was _incredibly_ wasteful, and weird. This was a good, strong fortress, even when half-ruined. You could train soldiers here. 

"It is not the only abandoned fortress in Fereldan," Lady Elspeth explained. Her eyes darted to the side, frowning slightly. "There is also Therinfall Redoubt, a former Seeker training facility." …Seeker? Did I know that term? I wasn't recalling it. "The reason is because legally speaking, neither fortress is 'owned' by Fereldan, and it would violate sacred oaths to simply take them." 

"So, they lay here to rot and fall apart." 

"You also have the mentions of ghosts running about in Soldier's Peak, written down by scholars who came to investigate. People tend to not like where the dead walk about." 

"Ghosts? Like the afterimages in the Thaigs?" 

"It is possible," Morrigan murmured. Surprisingly, she wasn't pressed against Cleon, but rather kept close to Elspeth. "The Veil here is very thin." She held up her hand, magic flickering at her fingertips. "Very thin indeed. Terribly powerful blood magic was once used here. I imagine it was the Wardens. They are 'allowed' to use it." 

"You know; a single blood mage could probably just rip the blood out of everyone in an army," Zevran mused. I gave him a look in reply. "What? It's true. Imagine someone as strong as Layla doing it." 

"Layla will cry and make you feel horrendously guilty if you even make the suggestion around her. And then Nuada will jump you." 

"Honestly, I think Cleon would beat him to it." Cleon's only response was to grin. "Yes, Cleon will beat the boyfriend to it. Lover. Courter. Elspeth, what is the proper term?" 

"Lover sounds more poetic," Leliana sighed dreamily when Lady Elspeth didn't reply. I just rolled my eyes, and shrugged when Levi gave me an incredulous look. Yes, we were weird. No, we didn't care. "Mmm, mmm, mmm~ With eyes of the moon and sky, he gazes upon the world~. But never did he see a more lovely sight than his love of fire hair and sunny smile~" 

"Did you just compose a song about my brother and lover on the _spot_?" Lady Elspeth asked incredulously, glancing back in shock. I had to admit. I hadn't been expecting that either. "Or have you been working on it?" 

"On the spot, but I think it will be a fun thing!" Leliana laughed, clapping her hands. "I'll compose songs about all of us!" What. "Come hither, come hither, and listen to my song~. Listen to my song of the heroes of age~. Warrior of arcane might, hero of the mages~." Layla? "Hero of the Dales, the assassin of the shadows~." That one had to be Cleon. He was giving me an incredulous look and I threw up my hands to tell him 'I don't even know anymore'. "Hero of the downtrodden, the silent force of justice~." …Was that supposed to be me? "And the noble champion, the hero of the north~." Um… Lord Nuada? What was this? "Mmm, it's a little clunky, but I do like those lines, so if I tweak it a bit…" 

Before any of us could really even _think_ of a reply to that, we made it to the courtyard and for some reason, there was a flash of light. When it cleared, we… suddenly were in a rather filled courtyard? Though, everyone look a little… transparent… 

Oh, freaking hell, ghosts actually existed? Yeah, there had been the things in the thaigs, but this was very, very different! Why was this a thing, and why did _we_ have to walk straight into it? 

_"Fall back! Fall back, everyone!"_ A man wearing old, old armor shouted orders. _"Damn Wardens. Ignoring the chance to die with honor and instead hole up like rats. We'll starve them out."_

_"Sir?"_ A single soldier spoke up. _"The Peak has literally months of supplies."_

_"Then we wait. And when they are too weak to hold up their weapons, we will send them to their final judgment."_

The air flickered again, and then everything was gone. Well, that was a… that was a thing. That was a thing, and we had officially made the list of 'weirdest shit I have seen'. 

"What _was_ that?" Levi asked. He looked pale and he glanced about. "I feel a little woozy." 

"As I mentioned, the Veil is thin here," Morrigan noted. She seemed rather unimpressed. "The Fade 'remembers' all that happens in the living world. When emotions run high, and spirits crowd the area to see through, the Fade creates an impression of the place, which may be viewed by any who walk through it." 

"So, basically, the Veil is so thin here that the Fade is leaking through?" I asked. When she nodded, I sighed. "Yeah, we're definitely in weird shit. Again." 

"Should you not be used to it by now?" That didn't mean I had to like it. "Oh, look. Skeletons coming to kill us." 

…I couldn't even pretend to be annoyed. "Crush them and head inside." 

* * *

The dead were dispatched easily. After going about and making certain they were all in pieces, and not about to attack us from behind, we entered the fortress itself. To be greeted by a bunch of ghosts standing around looking morose. 

I know we wanted to come here for information, but that was supposed to be information _on the Blight_. I didn't care about this rebellion, and I definitely didn't care enough to watch some damn ghosts talk. I had assumed Levi would find what he was looking for in some _books_ , not from ghosts! 

_"Morale is at an all time low, Sophia."_ A man in mage robes spoke to a woman in rather pretty, if old, armor. _"My spells are no use in this."_

_"There is more to leading people than sorcery, Avernus."_ The woman seemed… confident. Not quite to the point of smugness, but close enough that you could see why she might be called that by some. _"I will remind them they are Wardens_." She walked into the center of the room, a shifting to her shoulders ensuring she caught the attention of everyone in the room. _"I won't lie to you all. The situation is grim. Our forces are outnumbered, our bellies are empty, and our hearts are sagging."_ She punched her palm, a clear sign of psyching herself up. _"But, my friends, my family, we are Wardens! Darkspawn flee when they hear our horns! Archdemons tremble when we take up out blades!"_ The crowd of ghosts started grinning and nodding, fire in their eyes. _"So, a human despot and his pack of dogs think we are going to bend knee to them? What are they, compared to the Taint? NOTHING!"_ There was a great cheer. _"They just want us to surrender to there's a show on the gallows. But we will show them that good men and women fought and lived here. We will defy him until the end. Death before dishonor. Death before submission. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice!"_

The cheers echoed on, even as they all disappeared. Well, I suppose I learned how to whip people into a frenzy? Not sure how that would be useful, mind, but… 

"They were all so brave," Levi breathed. He had a smile on his face. "And she stood with them until the end." 

'It would have been smarter for them to have figured out a way to leave,' Cleon signed. None of us verbally translated, but he didn't seem to mind. 'Let them freak out over an armed fortress that had no one inside. Or just send a damn assassin on the king. Why was that not done?' 

'Fereldan is traditionally isolationist,' Elspeth signed back. She chose to not speak her words. 'And all the _good_ assassins are foreign.' 

'Idiots.' 

"Um… should I step away?" Levi asked. He looked a bit uncomfortable. "I can understand secrets, don't get me wrong, but you can just poke me, instead of signing around me." 

"It is less a 'secret' and more of 'we decided to not translate for tact's sake' and no one stopped to get things tactful again," I deadpanned. The others smiled sheepishly. "So, what's the plan?" 

"Well, truthfully, I had expected old moldy books, not… whatever this is." He shrugged. "I'll leave the plans of exploration to you, though. I showed you the way, yes, but if there's anything dangerous around, I'm about as useful as water during a flood." Did that even make sense? I didn't know, and I didn't care. 

"All right, then we split up. You just… actually, stick with Leliana. She's the least likely to make a dark humor comment in this place." I didn't know if it was a good thing or bad thing that _no one_ got offended. "Let's just pick directions and go from there." 

It ended up that Leliana and Levi went one way, Cleon and Morrigan went another, Sten and Zevran went a third, and Lady Elspeth and I went a fourth. And, as luck would have it, Lady Elspeth and I happened to run _right_ into the old library. 

"It looks like quite a few records were removed," Lady Elspeth noted, poking at the shelves. "Perhaps when some of the Wardens fled, they took the more secret things with them, to prevent outsiders from reading them." 

"Want to bet that if that's the case, the knowledge we came here looking for was among them?" I sighed. Her wry look told me she wasn't going to take the bet. "So, ghosts. We saw them in the thaigs, sure, but this just feels different." 

"I am a bit surprised we could understand them." 

"Why?" 

"Languages evolve, Aiden. They evolve constantly, changing every day." She shrugged. "It has been two-hundred years. Language changes a lot during that time. While we could probably still understand pieces, there should be phrases and terms that we have no context for." 

"You have a theory?" 

"My theory is that we aren't seeing these by _chance_." She looked right at me. "Someone, or something, is here, showing us the past for whatever reason. Someone is trying to use us." 

"Wow, excuse me while I pretend to be shocked." She laughed a little at that. "Use us for what?" 

"Maybe to fix something? I honestly don't know. I never looked much into the history here. I only know the basics." She sighed heavily. "I wish I knew more _now_." 

"Well, we're all going to learn together, and probably kick something in the face." 

"An axe-kick to the shoulder would be better. The dislocation is painful and you can use the opening in the guard to inflict much more damage." Axe-kick? "I will show you later, Aiden. I'm not sure if you're flexible enough to get a good one off, but it would be a good trick to keep as a back-up." 

"I'll look forward to it, _if_ you take up longsword lessons so I stop panicking when someone gets too close to you." …She made a face. She actually made a face! "Even Layla knows close-combat now, you know." 

"Oh, very well, Aiden." Hahaha! "Let's take a look around instead of talking." 

"Sounds good." Of course, there wasn't a lot to see around here. Entire shelves were missing, and half of what remained was molded, ink running to make pretty pictures, but a big mess of words. 

I stepped over to the side, noticing there was one book just tossed haphazardly on a desk, a dried up ink well and pen next to it. It was badly burnt, though. I could make out a word or two here or there, but… 

The room flashed white, and I found myself looking at ghosts again. I was so done with this. 

_"The door won't hold, archivist,"_ someone murmured. I could hear thumps and thuds, and the sound of wood splintering. 

_"Almost done,"_ another replied. I glanced over and saw them 'writing' in the very book I had been trying to read. _"The truth must be known."_

_"What does it matter? We're dead."_

_"Our grand rebellion, so close…"_ They sighed, shaking their head. _And to die a stillborn."_ Well, that was a lovely mental image. 

_"We never should have done this!"_ The other sounded desperate and angry. " _Wardens are supposed to keep out of politics! We don't oppose kings and princes!"_ …Um… ahaha… ha… oh, wow, Lord Nuada was right. If we failed, we were going to be in a lot of trouble, and not just Blight related trouble. 

_"But how could we, sworn to protect the people from the darkness, stand idly by while-!"_

I heard the door crash open. I heard the echoing screams. But I saw nothing, because the room flashed white again, and then I was back in the old library, with a badly burnt book that supposedly had 'the truth'. But was destroyed. 

That seemed so darkly fitting that I couldn't help but laugh and laugh. 

* * *

After hunting through the ruined library, Lady Elspeth and I found out a lot about the history of the place, and possibly the location of some secret weapon, but nothing substantial, so we returned to the others. And they, apparently, had really only found traces of old letters and some walking skeletons trying to bite their faces off. Nothing interesting. Well, that weapon might be, but that was something for another day. 

So, we made our way up to the second floor and, to the surprise of absolutely no one, as soon as got there, the room flashed white again. I was a little tired of flashbacks, especially since these flashbacks didn't help with the currently dilemma of the Blight. If anything, I was just getting pissed off. If these people had been smarter about their rebellion, then maybe we wouldn't have _been_ in this situation! 

_"Make them pay for every step_ !" Oh, look, there was Sophia again. We were in the middle of a ghost-battle. This was lovely. Ghosts were cold. Literally. They felt cold as they ran through you. _"Hold the flank!"_ I had to admit, though. The Wardens could _fight_. It made me wonder how skilled they would've been if they'd had food and weren't so tired. _"Avernus!"_

There was… murmuring. Mumbling. I couldn't make out the words, but they made the air hum, and I couldn't help but shake as I saw something crimson spiral along the stone floor. And out from the spirals came _demons_. 

I… think we just discovered why the Veil was so thin. The Wardens, in an attempt to win, had ripped it open and dragged demons through. 

_"More, Avernus! Whatever it takes!_ " …If I ever became a leader that thought, without irony, that the end justified the means, I was going to jump off a damn cliff. I would _not_ be a leader like her. This was wrong. 

More demons appeared, ripping the soldiers to shreds, and Sofia kept encouraging it, shouting orders left at right. Avernus, wherever he was, kept at it, summoning more and more. 

And then the demons started attacking the Wardens. Well, looked like we got to see why they _lost_. They wanted to win by whatever means, and it destroyed them along with the soldiers. Fitting. 

The room flashed, and we were back in the present. And, in the corner, you could see the remnants of the ritual. 

"Well, it seems I was correct," Morrigan noted. Surprisingly, she didn't sound smug about it at all. Just resigned. "What fools." If they were going to go that far, they should have just used the blood mage to control the enemy commander. It wasn't _that_ much different and it probably had less… okay, no, I was going to stop that thought there, because I was _not_ going to be that sort of leader. 

Assassins. Assassins were so much better. I'd send Cleon to deal with them. That was dark enough, thank you. 

"Does anyone want to poke around the room here or should we just move on?" I asked. No one said a word. "Levi?" I glanced at him and noticed he looked a bit uncomfortable. "Want to back out?" 

"Even if I did, it's not like there's a safe place for me to wait," he pointed out. I nodded, accepting that. "Besides, even if the truth is uncomfortable, isn't it better than living an uncertain lie? The truth helps you move forward, or so I've heard." Well, that… was one way to look at it. "Lead on. I'm just along for the ride, and being thoroughly creeped out." Ha! 

With a shrug, I led the way out of the room and into the hall. And immediately, I noticed something off. There was a barrier over one door, shimmering and writhing. Morrigan's wide eyes confirmed it was powerful, and likely not something that could just 'linger'. Well, if there weren't already suspicions we weren't alone here, we just had it confirmed. 

But since it was there, we really only had one place we could go, the door to the left. Slowly, I pushed it open, waiting for some sort of trap to spring. When nothing came, though, we cautiously crept into what looked to be an old study, and found… something odd. A person, in old armor. In the armor I could have sworn Sophia had been wearing in the flasbacks? 

"Step no further, Wardens." The person turned, and I found myself face to face with a partially rotted, dead-eyed Sophia. "This one would speak to you." 

…I was so done with everything. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So, this is the _other_ non-companion, non-expansion DLC of Origins, The Warden's Keep. While Return to Ostagar delves into a more personal past of the Warden (that is, the prologue), this DLC delves into the distant past to give more information on just why the Warden is alone. Fun from a player perspective, but Aiden is a little done with weird shit. 
> 
> Leliana is a bard, so composing songs, sure? It's more that I wanted to show them having fun, and that kinda just… happened. The titles and 'hero of' things appeared actually in the very beginning of the story. Each one of the origins, and intro POVs, started with something like 'Origin of the Arcane Warrior, Hero of the Mages'. Decided to bring them in for fun. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Nuada at Ostagar 


	90. Chapter 79) Memorials at Ostagar

Chapter 79) Memorials of Ostagar 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_"Guests at the gates! Guests at the gates!" Elspeth and I looked at each other in confusion as the guards shouted the words. We didn't know what was going on. Was this some Fereldan custom? We didn't know. We had only been in Fereldan for a few days. 'Home' didn't feel like home when you had no memories of the place. "Guests at the gates!"_

_Slowly, Elspeth and I headed for the front gates. She hid behind me, and I put on my smile. It was how things always were when we were in strange places. This was probably the strangest, because it wasn't 'supposed' to be strange. Everyone expected us to be perfectly fine, perfectly at home, and they seemed to forget that Fereldan was as 'unknown' as Orlais or Nevarra had been._

_When we arrived, we heard Fergus laughing. It was his real laugh, the one that was too loud and made him smile too widely for 'proper company'. We saw him hugging a blonde man, about the same age, grinning widely as he chatted about something._

_"Yes, I'm going to get a huge lecture, and I don't care. They're coming to see you all anyway, so what's the problem with me riding ahead?" The blonde had a light, cheerful voice, friendly as a puppy. But I could see the intelligence in his eyes, all but hidden behind the warmth, and figured he had ridden ahead for other purposes than simple 'rebellion'._

_"I'm not protecting you this time," Fergus teased. He glanced over and smiled warmly when he saw Elspeth and me. "Anyway, come here, Cailan, and meet my siblings." He tugged the man over. "Elspeth, Nuada, this is Cailan, my best friend, and prince of Fereldan." Oh, the person Fergus always wrote letters to._

_"It's nice to formally meet you to!" Cailan laughed. His hug was surprising, and warm. "Welcome to Fereldan. I hope you will learn to love it." …He… acknowledged Elspeth and I didn't know Fereldan…? "Has anyone shown you the cliffs yet? They're the best view of the sea."_

_…I adored him. I adored that he didn't just assume things. I was glad he was Fergus's best friend._

* * *

He had blonde hair, green eyes. There was a scar under his left ear, a mole on his neck. He was freckled, and wore a simple string-pendant necklace. I noted it all down, took the pendant to place with the paper, and moved on to the next one. 

It felt wrong, just leaving. Yes, we didn't have much information to find here, but there were the dead, and they deserved to be given proper rights. They deserved to be identified. So, we were going through the dead, one by one, writing down anything and everything that could be used for identification. 

There were just so _many,_ though. It would take years to figure out who died, who was missing, and who had escaped. That was assuming there would ever be closure. 

Sighing, I rubbed at my eye, starting to strain from so much squinting. I had volunteered to venture into the Wilds, to see if I could find any who had ventured out here, and perished amongst the trees. Most bodies I found were ripped apart and half-eaten. Even the one I had just noted down had been missing his legs. 

I leaned against a tree, looking up at the leafless branches. It was so quiet here. It hadn't been this quiet, last time. Then again, that might have been because of the huge group. Layla, Aiden, Cleon, Alistair, Jory, Daveth, and me… we must have been so _loud_. Had that time only been a few months ago? It felt so long. Back then, I had both my eyes. Back then, I didn't have this burning 'thrum' in my veins, twisting and turning, practically _begging_ me to cut loose. I thought I had a bad temper before, but now… I could see why Mother always said she'd ground Fergus forever if he considered being a Reaver. If I let myself slip, even for a moment, I could become a monster easily. 

That wasn't a fun thought. It also wasn't a fun thought to know that Layla had been scared. She'd smiled at me, but I knew I had scared her. I was certain I scared the others. I had scared _myself_. I would really have to be careful. 

The sound of branches snapping made me look up, wondering if some animal was venturing close, to see what sort of idiot meandered into the woods on his own. I held still, not in the mood to run. Besides, most predators tended to slink away when you faced them and showed no weaknesses. 

"Well, well… what do we have here?" I had to fight to roll my eyes when Flemeth stepped out of the shadows. She wore mage robes this time, though she kept the old lady appearance. "I must say; I wasn't expecting to see you in the Wilds," she continued with a little chuckle. "My, what an adventure you've had." 

"That's one way to put it, my Lady Flemeth," I deadpanned. She simply laughed. "Were you curious about the little adventurer stumbling through your woods?" 

"A little, yes." She stepped a little closer, studying me closely. "There's dragon's power in you, and you've lost an eye." I think I was aware of that. "You do indeed remind me of Sarim." 

"What? Did the finder of House Cousland lose an eye and become a Reaver too?" That would be ridiculous. 

"Well, he lost the eye. I took it from him, when he was preventing me from inflicting my wrath on anyone but his lord." She smiled slowly. "Kind man. He let me kill Conobar, only stopping me when I turned my vengeance elsewhere." 

"I'm so pleased to hear that." 

"Yes, don't mind an old woman's ramblings." She chuckled again, low and soft. "So, you returned to Ostagar, and dealt with the necromancer. A good thing. I was trying to determine if it was worth bothering with." 

"Well, I appreciate the necromancer _not_ bringing back the dead." I clenched my fists as I remembered fighting 'Uncle Duncan'. That had just been… "What would have happened if it brought the archdemon back or something?" 

"Oh, the archdemon can do that itself." …What did she just…? "There is a reason why the First Blight lasted so long." She stepped back, watching me like a predator, hunting for any weakness to pounce on. "There are plenty of soldiers strong enough, skilled enough, _lucky_ enough to shove a sword through a skull, but the archdemon simply jumps its soul to another darkspawn, and transforms it into its image." 

"So, like how you are said to…?" 

"Yes, just like what some legends say of me." She laughed, crossing her arms and smiling wide. It looked more like bared fangs. "Ressurective immortality. They can die, but they are reborn." 

"Blights end. Archdemons are slain." 

"Yes, indeed. But note who kills the Archdemon. Always, without fail." …It was always a Warden. "A bit of information, since you could not find any." 

"What do I pay for it?" 

"Nothing." …I didn't believe that. "You are putting the dead to rest, and you killed the necromancer that was bothering me. This is in exchange for that." That I could believe. "And now, I have a favor for you." 

"Oh?" Well, this just got interesting. "What is it?" 

"I want you to deliver this book to Morrigan." She conjured up a heavy book and passed it to me. "It is her… inheritance, shall we say?" She laughed. "I want to see what she will do, without my presence lingering over her." 

"So, you want me to lie to Morrigan that you're dead." I gave her my most exasperated look. "My Lady Flemeth, I am flattered, but you severely overestimate my lying skills if you think I can come up with a plausible way you died." 

"Why have it be a lie?" Magic flickered at her fingertips. "Just tell her I got bored." What was she-? "I'll find her later, when I'm in my new body. Oh, but don't tell her _that_ part, okay?" 

I didn't even have time to be shocked as she turned her magic on herself, ripping apart her body like it was just a bit of old clothes she no longer cared for. So, I could only watch as the pieces thumped to the ground, blood splattering the trees and pooling in the snow. 

…She really had the largest dramatic streak. 

* * *

I decided that Flemeth dramatically destroying herself in front of me was a good sign to just return to Ostagar and give up on trying to find anyone else in the Wilds. I slid the book into my pack to give to Morrigan later and then went to help the others. Layla seemed to notice something was wrong, as she made a point to give me a kiss on the cheek as we all worked. I made sure to snag her hand and kiss it, just to make her blush. 

At some point, though, Oghren and Shale got Cailan down. Someone found his armor. I didn't know who, and I honestly didn't care. Instead, Alistair and I silently did our best to snap all the pieces of the armor on. Alistair insisted on putting clothes on him before the armor, probably so that Cailan wasn't just lying there naked while we tried to figure out how he got his damn armor on in the first place. We used his spare shirt and trousers. 

"I saw him six months before Ostagar," Alistair murmured at some point. "Cailan, I mean." We had been quiet, letting the snow gently fall on us, putting Cailan's armor on him one piece at a time. "There was a tournament in honor of Duncan, and I competed in it. I lost badly, but Duncan saw something in me. I still don't really know what." 

"A good heart, likely," I answered absently. Cailan, how did you ever get these things on? It was far more complicated than mine. …Then again, the cold and snow were making my fingers clumsy. There was also a shaking I knew was due to be desperately trying to not break down in tears. "Wardens do what they must, but if they don't have a good heart, then they quickly become as monstrous as the darkspawn in the name of 'saving the world'." 

"Ha, maybe… it could also just be that he saw how miserable I was as a templar." He fell silent again. "It was announced in front of everyone that I would be recruited. The Grand Cleric pitched a fit, but Duncan called Right of Conscription to get me. I remember being startled. No one had ever fought to keep me." Eamon, I could still punch you for that. I understood, but I still could, and I knew he would understand why I was mad. "As Duncan led me out, I glanced back at Cailan. I knew he was there. I hadn't really seen him since we were children, and I wondered what he thought, looking at me. If he'd even known we were related." 

"What did you see?" 

"He was looking right at me. Proud, but also like he was ready to cry. I still don't know why." His hand shook as he worked on the last strap. "I told myself that I would ask when I saw him again. Then I did, and I told myself I'd ask after the battle. I'm really good at running away." 

"I wish I could help, but Cailan's preferred confidant was Fergus. I listened when Fergus wasn't around." I glanced up at him, stepping back from Cailan's body. "You can ask him when we're in Denerim." 

"…Yeah, I think I will." Alistair sighed and stepped back too. "There we go." 

"Yeah…" I glanced at him. "Cailan was the one who suggested you go to the beacon, by the way." When he didn't reply, I looked up to the Tower. We had been up there, when… "Loghain was just going to send me, but Cailan insisted. So, I definitely think he knew about you. When we talked afterwards, he called you 'one of the best', so he also held you in high regard." 

"Maybe he was lying to explain why he sent me." 

"No, I always know… knew… when Cailan lied. He truly believed it." I looked back to him. "I don't know what to make of the information, or how you should react, but it seemed like something to tell you. Maybe it'll make whatever Fergus says more believable." 

"Maybe." He gave me a small, bitter smile, and I returned it with one of my own. "Regardless, let's get moving him…" 

"Right." Cailan was heavy. It took both of us working together to carry him over to the others. 

We set him down next to what remained of Uncle Duncan. I winced as I looked at the bloodless injuries I inflicted. I wished I had been a little neater about ending the fight, but at least he was still mostly recognizable? I could hear him laughing, reassuring me that things were okay. 

My eyes flitted down to his weapons, resting by his side. His sword and dagger had been dug out of the Risen Ogre. Traditionally, a warrior's weapons would be given away. I should… ah, yes, I knew who to give these to. 

I scooped them up, checking for any damage. There was nothing that couldn't be fixed with a good sharpen, so I passed them to Alistair and Layla. Alistair, practically a son to Uncle Duncan, would get his sword. Layla, the first of us four he recruited, would get his dagger. 

They both looked very confused, but seemed to shrug it off as me being weird. Alistair did smile softly as looked at the blade, probably glad to just have _something_ of Uncle Duncan's. But the smile faded as we joined the others up on the hill. Down below us was Ostagar, all the bodies lined up next to each other. In our packs were large stacks of paper and personal items, gathered from each one of the dead. Now, there was only one thing left that we _could_ do for them… 

Wynne was the one who cast the spell, setting all of Ostagar on fire. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… Fereldans burned their dead, and so we were giving them a proper send-off at last. 

Layla leaned into me as we watched the flames devour the remains of the camp, the bodies lined up neat little lines. I wrapped my arm around her waist, tugging her just a little closer, and resting my cheek against her hair. 

When Cailan and Uncle Duncan disappeared into ash, I had to close my eyes, unable to stop the silent tears. Goodbye, everyone. Please, rest easily, wherever your spirits ended up. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So, part of Morrigan's companion quest, setting Cailan and the rest of Ostagar to rest, divvying up Duncan's weapons… basically just putting Ostagar behind them. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Keep with Cleon 


	91. Chapter 80) Forgotten Victims

Chapter 80) Forgotten Victims 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Hey, you're Cleon, right?" I blinked slowly, not quite sure why this da'len was talking to me. Lyna and I were the children of the former keeper, and as such, we were kept 'separate'. We were 'special'. No one knew if we were even going to stay. "My name is Tamlen!" His voice was warm and bright, and he held out his hand. "Do you want to play?"_

_I hesitated, not really sure what to say, or even do. It was like looking at the sun, when all I had was the moon before. But, hesitantly, I reached out and took his hand, and let him pull me into the sunshine._

_We had been best friends ever since._

* * *

Talking dead bodies. Well, that's a new one. Somehow. I was actually impressed there were new things at this point. 

I didn't even bother trying to 'listen', waving away Morrigan's signing. Instead, I just focused on Aiden. I simply waited as he chatted with the corpse, perfectly amicable and polite. However, I saw his eyes dart to the side, right at me, and saw him sign, 'kill her, please.' 

I nodded once to show I had seen the signs, and casually slid along the sides of the room. That Shadow manual had talked of misdirection, and appearing inconspicuous. It was a good complement to an assassin's skills. Disorientation, flanking and surprise… those were the tricks, allowing for a powerful strike to come from nowhere. 

Perfect for sneaking up behind talking corpses and decapitating them. I nudged the body as it fell, tilting my head as I watched for any sort of twitch. I came up with nothing, though, and glanced up at Aiden. 'So?' I signed. The others were staring at Aiden with varying degrees of respect and shock. 'What now?' 

'We head to the mage tower,' Aiden signed back. I shook my head and pointed to the others. Confused, he looked back too, and was startled by their reactions. 'Is something wrong?' 

'Just admiring your ruthlessness,' Zevran answered quickly, smirking. 'Very hot, most amusing.' Aiden's face turned pink. 'Shall we continue? I wish to praise you along the way.' 

'I don't need praising!' 

Noting the two of them were going to go at it for a while, I shrugged and walked out the door. Aiden had been just as oblivious as before to Zevran's flirtations, but I got the sense that it was 'deliberate' this time, so I wasn't going to push. Nuada had explained Aiden had his reasons, but hadn't wanted to elaborate. Which was fine. I just wanted him to confront that issue. 

The barrier on the other door was gone, so I led the way through it, walking on the battlements towards a huge tower. Up here, the wind blew fiercely, biting with the cold. I ducked back to stay near Sten as we walked. The guy just radiated heat, so it was like having a portable fire. The way others clustered up told me they were doing the same thing. Sten, for his part, was fondly exasperated. 

Inside the tower, though, I had to just _stare_. Cages. The room was filled with cages. Cages with skeletons still trapped inside. The bits of cloth and armor peeking through the bars had griffons. These… were Wardens. 

Cautiously, I crept closer, noting an old desk nearby. A vial, deep red and almost bubbling, caught my attention. I popped it open to sniff, and wrinkled my nose. Acrid… I set it down and looked over at the notebook next to it, picking it up to flip through. 

Movement caught my eye, and I turned to see Aiden and Zevran had caught up with us, Zevran shaking with laughter, and Aiden pink-faced and glowering. 'Cleon, do you have water?' he asked. 'Hyena over here knocked my canteen off the side.' 

Shrugging, I undid the top of my canteen and held it out for him, returning to skimming through the notes. Movement in the corner of my eye told me he reached for it, but I didn't feel him take it from me. Confused, I glanced over and saw Aiden was yelling at Leliana about something she had teasing, not paying attention to where he was grabbing. And his hand was on the _vial_. 

I tried to lunge, thought about screaming even, but I barely had time to register what had happened before he drank down the contents. And immediately collapsed, vial cracking as it fell to the ground. 

Panicking, I knelt beside him, holding him as he hacked and sputtered. _Something_ slipped through him, making his veins briefly visible, an ugly and coarse black. Morrigan was on his other side, healing magic in her hands as she tried to ease what was going on. 

Elspeth knelt in front of us, frowning at the cracked vial. 'If this is poison, it is not one I know,' she signed. Still, she set it down and peered at Aiden's face. 'No signs of poison in his face… Morrigan?' Morrigan simply shook her head, eyes narrowed. 'If this is another case of a Reaver Ritual, I might just cry again.' 

A bit reassured by the knowledge that it wasn't quite poison, I focused on Aiden. Carefully, I held my hands in front of his face and signed, 'you grabbed a vial. Not my water.' He nodded, still hacking. The force made him shake and I thought he might have collapsed entirely if I wasn't holding him. 'Scale of one to dragon's blood, how bad is this?' He gave me a look, mustering enough strength to do so. 'So, dragon's blood. Got it.' I grinned, hoping it would make him exasperated, and he rolled his eyes showing it had. 

Slowly but surely, though, his breathing evened out and he was able to sit back on his heels. I still got a sense of 'otherness', but he _looked_ normal, and that was more important at the moment. 'That was a burn,' Aiden signed. His hands shook, though, so Sten crouched down to sign for him. Aiden smiled in thanks. 'It felt like it went through my whole body.' 

'How do you feel?' 

'…Like I need to pretend I am walking on eggshells. I feel _strong_ , too much so.' 

There must have been some sort of sound, as everyone started and whirled. I slowly stood, eyes narrowing as I noted the old mage who walked into the room. 'Ah, I see you are signing, so one of your number is deaf,' the man said. Morrigan switched to signing for me. Everyone else save Levi was armed. Levi, for his part, ducked behind Aiden. 'Why are you here? What is your intent?' 

'Who are you, for starters?' Leliana growled. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and I was reminded on how she used to be a spy. 'What is going on? We met Sophia.' 

'The demon that wears, or rather wore, her face if I am sensing correctly.' He shrugged. 'I am Avernus.' Was that not the name of the mage who… how hold was he?! 'I have been studying and focusing my efforts for the past two hundred years in unlocking the power within the Tainted Blood of the Wardens, and ensuring demons did not overrun Fereldan.' He nodded to Aiden, who shakily stood up. 'I see your friend accidentally volunteered to be a test subject.' 

'What did it do?' Aiden asked. His hands were still too shaky to sign, so Morrigan continued. 'I have to say. It feels just a little less worse than the Reaver Ritual Lord Nuada described.' 

'Ah, the might of a dragon… strong and fierce.' Avernus shook his head. 'No, all this did was unlock the power in the taint,' he explained. 'Demons do not understand the taint well. It is a bit of blood magic, but one that can be used by any Warden. I have notes for my suspicions on what it would do to a non-mage Warden, but I am afraid I never had a subject to test it on besides myself.' 

'Is this going to kill me?' 

'No more so than what the Taint normally does. I used it, and you can see how I am.' Did Aiden just condemn himself to outliving us then? 'Now, now, this is a very interesting group. Two Wardens, a Cousland, a Qunari, a mage, and two assassins.' 

'You should see the rest of us.' Aiden smiled wryly. 'So how did you guess?' 

'Research, observation, and blood magic.' I felt my skin crawl. He had used blood magic to read us, and none of us had even known? Terrifying. 'Now then, might I make a bargain with you lot?' 

'Is this going to be anything like the talking dead one's? Because I had Cleon kill her.' 

'And I imagine with me, you would just let the two archers fire, and the rest clean things up. But no, I don't want to leave. I want help cleansing this place.' Cleansing? 

'You are going to repair the Veil,' Morrigan explained. Her eyes were wide, and shining even. Adorable. 'But it is difficult to do alone because demons will come through to stop it.' 

'Exactly.' Avernus nodded. 'I am so tired and so old. I regret that I failed. I regret Arland never paid. I regret that I cannot _fix_ things. So, help me.' He reached out entreatingly. 'I will accept whatever judgment you give, afterwards, Wardens.' Morrigan gave both of us a look of 'if you don't agree, I will hurt you', so Aiden and I shrugged and nodded. 'Thank you.' His smile warmed, and I felt the magic in the air pulse. 'One moment.' 

A blink, a feeling of plummeting, and suddenly we… we were back in the room where we had seen the demons be summoned. Uh… 

'So…' I began signing. Elspeth translated for me, I think just because she recovered first. 'Isn't warping, teleporting, whatever something magic really can't do?' 

Avernus looked rather pleased with himself. 'Well, that is only really true when the Veil is intact,' he explained, Elspeth signing for him. This others looked a little too disoriented still. 'Magic that is even theoretically impossible is capable of being used when it is not! I tried to play a bit with time magic, turning back the block to fix things that way.' He sighed, the movement paired with a shrug of his shoulders. 'Alas, I could not, even with so many years of study. A shame, really. Perhaps you could go all the way back and discover what truly caused the Blights.' 

'Or get killed by ripping reality apart.' Okay, if Layla ever got this scholar-happy, I was going to… to tickle her back into a healthier mindset. 'So?' 

'So, I must unravel the summoning circles.' There was an air of absolute stillness about him and I could sense the air dance with magic. 'They come.' Oh, yay. Demons. …Had I actually fought demons on this bizarre adventure we had or had I just fought the vicariously through Nuada and Layla? I couldn't remember. 

I suppose it didn't really matter. Demons died the same way everything else that got shoved with copious pointy objects did. Messily. 

They _really_ died messily when Aiden went to work though. He was faster. He was faster and he was stronger, and I swore he could actually predict where the enemy was about to strike. It was strangely breathtaking, except… you know… all the blood and gore. Which made it terrifying. 

The fact that Aiden was _already damn strong_ made it even scarier. He commanded the field. It was _his_ , and the enemies were just interlopers he was dealing with. The flow of the battle was his, and everyone was dancing to his tune, even his allies. 

I made myself look away, mostly to keep myself from being caught up. There were demons to fight, after all. 

Finally, though, all the demons were dead. I did a headcount once the magic in the air faded. Elspeth and Leliana had kept Levi safe with their arrows. Zevran and Sten were laughing at something. Well, Zevran was laughing and Sten just looked exasperated. Morrigan was poking at the charred markings on the ground, and Aiden was… what happened to his armor? 

He must have noticed me looking because he glanced up. I pointed at the remnants of the armor and he grimaced with a shrug. A demon broke it, then. Well, it had lasted him a while, I suppose. 

'And thus, it ends.' Sten, being the least tired of all of us, signed for me as Avernus talked. 'The Veil is stronger now. It is safe here, again.' Avernus nodded to us. 'A shame about your armor, child, but go ahead and take Sophia's. She'd rather someone like you wear it.' He shrugged. 'So, child, what is your judgment?' Oh right. That. 

Aiden was silent for a while before nodding. 'If you might continue your research, ethically?' Aiden requested. 'You do have old knowledge, but I want no more forgotten victims.' Knowledge! Right! The whole reason we came here! 'Though, that reminds me. What do you know of Blights and Archdemons?' 

'Nothing, I am afraid. That information was on a need to know basis, and the records pertaining to the secrets left with the Wardens who did not support Sophia.' Damn. 'I only know what history tells us. A Warden was always the one who killed the Archdemon… and that Warden had a grand funeral in the aftermath.' Wait, what? 

'There… are records of Garahel's funeral,' Elspeth signed slowly. Her eyes were wide. 'But every? I had thought… He was slung a great distance. His griffon died too. I had simply thought…' 

'It could have been that. Maybe it is something else. But it is a fact. Their memorials are in the Warden Headquarters.' He bowed. 'I will return to my tower and start up my research again. I will send word the instance I have something. I promise.' 

He left without another word, and we were left in an awkward, somber air. Was that… how it was going to be with us? Was one of us five Wardens going to die? I… wasn't sure how much I liked that thought. We had gone through so damn much after surviving Ostagar… Mythal, please, give us a sign of hope? 

'Well, this is all nice.' It took a wave for me to even notice Sten was signing, and it took a point for me to realize Levi was the one talking. 'Soldier's Peak is safe again.' His smile was kind and warm. Despite this likely being in no way what he wanted. 'For so long, I and the rest of my family were focused on the past,' he said. His demeanor, and the wistful look on his face, made me think he was murmuring. 'On answers. Well, I have, them. Not what I wanted or expected, but that doesn't matter. I have them. So, perhaps its time to focus on the future.' 

'So, what will you do?' Aiden asked. His tone was kind. I knew that by his eyes. 'Will you head home?' 

'Well, I was thinking that, but I was also thinking I talk legal things with Lady Cousland here, and see if I can get this place fixed up for you lot to use for your forces.' What. 'And, in exchange, my family comes here to do business, help you all with your supplies, have a safe place to stay, that sort of thing.' He shrugged. 'What about it?' 

'I will gladly take any and all help I get.' Aiden grinned as he held out his hand. 'Thank you, Levi.' 

'No, thank you, Warden Aiden.' The two shook hands, sealing the deal, and I was left more than a little bewildered. 

We… got a fortress. Disturbing information, and a fortress. Well, it wasn't a wasted trip. That was something. 

* * *

We ended up doing some poking around before departing, leaving with a sword Elspeth and Morrigan found. Asturian's Might, they said it was called. I just knew there was magic in the blade. Aiden had immediately decided we were going to give it to Nuad, so that he wasn't relying on his family's sword forever. There was probably something poetic in that. 

Regardless, though, night had fallen, and we all were going to sleep. We headed for Denerim, and the Landsmeet, at long last. 

Morrigan was staying awake, reading some book. I absently traced shapes on her bare back, watching her face. It was something we had just fallen into recently, after having sex. It was fun, watching her smile, watching her desperately bite back laughter when I hit a particularly ticklish spot. 

'What are you reading?' I signed, dropping my free hand on the book so she had to see. She gave me a dirty look and I grinned. 'Yes, like a cat.' 

'I am the catty one here,' she signed back. She smiled wickedly. 'Perhaps you want more marks on your back to prove it?' 

'Maybe later.' I was rather content right now. 'So?' 

'It is a history of Soldier's Peak. Tis how Elspeth and I found the sword.' Ah, that made sense. 'Oh, right, here.' She reached over to her pack and plucked a ring from it. 'A gift.' I took it and gave her a look. I knew what rings meant in shemlen countries. 'Not like that!' Her face colored though. 'It is simply a way that I might find you if you get lost in the city.' 

'I do not get lost.' Still, I slipped it on my hand, right above the promise-ring from Merrill. I wondered… how she was… Was she crying? I hoped not. The world was always darkest when she cried. 'It fits.' 

She didn't reply. She just looked at the rings I wore. I could tell she wanted to say something. But something made her pause, and whatever that something was, I could tell it made her uncomfortable, and maybe a little afraid. So, I reached over to tickle her sides, grinning as she burst into what I knew was loud laughter, based on the bright smile on her face. 

'I am going to check the fire,' I signed to her when she calmed down a little, shifting to put on pants again. I could feel her staring into my back. 'Be right back.' 

Her leg hooked around mine briefly, a teasing way of saying 'come back soon'. I smiled over my shoulder and stepped outside, letting the cold blast me. I was completely unsurprised that Elspeth was sitting up by the fire, reading by its light in her nightclothes, despite it being Sten's watch. 

She was smiling at me as I approached, hair undone from her braid for once. 'I heard the laughter,' she signed, eyes soft. 'Having fun?' 

'Yeah,' I signed back. I plopped down next to her, poking at her book. 

She read the silent question easily. 'It is a book on how to make better speeches?' Her smile turned shy. 'I want to do a good job. At the Landsmeet. I am certain we can win even if I do a _bad_ job.' She signed 'bad' twice. 'But I want to do a good job. It will make a better impression on you all.' 

'And you want to impress Alistair~' I grinned teasingly, and it only grew as her face heated up in a bright-bright blush. 'To think I used to believe you were made of stone.' 

'Most do.' Her blush faded for a wry smile. 'It made things… easier abroad. Then we came here, and found even more expectations on us. I suppose it broke us a little.' Her smile became warm. 'I like being with everyone here, though. I know I can make mistakes, and no one will mind. Much. That is a nice feeling.' 

'I'm glad, but don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject from Alistair.' She sulked and I grinned. 'So, tell me-' She held up a hand suddenly, all humor gone. 'What is it?' 

'Sten is yelling.' … _Sten_ was… 'Ambush!' Fen'harel's teeth! 

It was absolute chaos. Darkspawn had attacked us. Darkspawns that looked remarkably like elves, and clearly had the same night-vision elves had. I saw flurries of motion, arrows and magic soaring. 

I ran back to my tent, intent on snagging my daggers to join the fight, but something tackled me from behind, sending us both rolling down the hill that was _supposed_ to have been a source of protection. 

I landed on my back, and the something had its hands around my neck, intent on choking me. I reached up, intent on fighting back, but I froze. I knew this face. There might be no hair, and the skin might be purple-black, but I knew this face. I knew these eyes. Tamlen. 

But… but Tamlen was dead! Duncan had said… had he lied? Had he lied to me?! …Or maybe he had just assumed based on what normally happened? Maybe he had told me that so I could get back, and make my choice, whatever it was. 

Whatever the reason, I couldn't even bring myself to be mad. I was in too much shock. My hands just fell to my side, vision slowly going back as he choked me. I couldn't… was he mad? Was he mad that I survived? That I had been making something of the life forced on me? 

As the world slowly faded, I saw his mouth moving. He was trying to say something. Ah, Tamlen… 

"I can't hear, Tamlen." I said the words. I think I did, anyway. I felt something vibrate in my throat at least. "Ir abelas, Tamlen. I can't hear anything. I can't hear you." 

Something hit my cheek, and I realized Tamlen was crying. I reached up to wipe the tears away with my sleeve, like I used to when we were kids. I would tease him all the time. Of course, I wasn't wearing a shirt, so I just used my hand, like Lyna used to. 

He snagged the hand abruptly, and put it on his own throat, pushing deep enough to make him cough. Then he mouthed the words again, and I figured out what he was trying to say. 

'Free me.' 

Automatically, I rolled pinning him down. I hunted for something sharp, but there wasn't anything. 

'Kill me.' 

So, I reached down and wrapped my hands around his neck, pushing as hard as I could. I felt something give under my hands, something break, and kept on pressing as he coughed and choked. 

His hands came up automatically, aimed for my face in instinctive defense, but they fell to my arms, where he traced out letters. Words he wanted to say, but I couldn't hear, so he was 'writing' them for me. 

'Ma serannas, my dearest friend. I am glad I found you at last. Be happy. Be safe. Tell Lyna that I…' 

His hands fell to his side then. I knew the rest, though. 'That I love her'. That was all it could be. 

Slowly, I let go of his neck, and shifted to the side. I had no idea what I was waiting for. Was I waiting for him to move again? Not move again? Magically get better like this was a fucking story with a happy ending? Happy endings like that didn't exist. You had to make your own miracles. 

And there wasn't going to be one. Tamlen was dead. I killed him. I killed Tamlen. 

I don't know how I got to my tent. I can only remember looking at Tamlen's body one second, and collapsing in tears the next blink, somehow in my tent. 

Gentle, hesitant arms wrapped around me, tugging me into an awkward, but reassuring hug. Morrigan. Morrigan was trying to… 

I broke down and sobbed the whole night, resting against her shoulder. She didn't once pull away, just gently stroked my hair. For this one brief moment, I was just… I was just allowed to cry for my best friend, who had suffered so, so much. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: At some point after completing… I believe it's two main quests, the Archdemon launches an ambush on your party camp, the one time in the game you aren't 'safe' there. _If_ you're of the Dalish origin, though, you get an 'extra surprise' there: learning the fate of Tamlen. Things like that really imply the Archdemon is a very lucky creature, or is _incredibly calculating_. Based on the Darkspawn Chronicles, I go with the latter personally. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Oghren 


	92. Interlude - Surface Warrior

Interlude – Surface Warrior 

* * *

This is all nuts. Everything could go to the nugs. And, by the Stone, he really feels like the sky will swallow him whole. Surfacers are strange, and now, he's probably the strangest of them. 

He sighs, glancing over at the others he's traveling with. He had tagged along to see where this Blight started, and to get a feel for the three Wardens he hadn't met down in the Deep Roads. What he got… well, Alistair is probably someone suited for… maybe not fighting _all_ the time. Oh, he could thrive in it, but he didn't command a field. Not like Layla and Nuada. 

Those two _ruled_ the battlefield, much like Aiden and Cleon. Honestly, he thinks that's why this group has survived so long, come so far. Those four, the leaders, learned how to seize control of the battle, take the flow and make it theirs. Yet they maintained a bit of… childishness? Nah, wrong word. He'd probably find the right one after some drinking. It isn't a fault, though. It's refreshing, seeing those so strong still hold onto ideals. 

It's seriously messed up that they were caught up in this. He can see it. They are broken and rebroken. Like him. But unlike him, they managed to make something of the mess. Him? He just failed. Repeatedly. His life is a mess under all the drinking and fighting, and while he puts on a brave face, he knows it very well. 

He was shunned by everyone, and then taken in by the Wardens. He was the laughingstock of Orzammar who Aiden gave a chance to. He doesn't know why. It's just what happened, and he finally got the answers he wanted. It didn't end the way he wanted, but he got them. He finally is able to move on. 

Now, of course he has the what-ifs. What if he had been a better husband? What if he had been a better person? What if he had talked to Branka about how bitter he felt at his house being absorbed, his accomplishments washed away? But its almost nice to have them. 

But the what ifs turn to another. Felsi. They had been interested prior to his marriage to Branka, and they had tried a relationship when Branka took the whole sodding house to the Deep Roads. But it didn't work out. He had been an even bigger mess. But maybe… 

"Hey…" he begins slowly. He remembers that she told him where she was going. To the surface, to a certain inn. He thinks she told him in hopes that, when things were a little better, he would come find her? Besides, what's the worse that can happen? His family is dead, his honor as a warrior is long gone. He's lost his caste and his house. The only thing he has to lose is his miserable life, and he is a warrior. He's always known he was going to throw that away at some point. 

"Yes, Oghren?" Alistair is the one who answers, glancing down at him. "Need one of us to carry you?" the boy teases. He barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Barely. "Okay, that's a 'no'. What's up?" 

"Mind if I ask a favor?" 

"Are you drunk?" This time, he does scowl. "Sorry, just didn't expect you to ask that." The boy smiles. "So, what do you need?" 

"There's this… friend I want to check in on." Sure, he'd go with that. "I think it's a bit of a detour at this point." They had just gotten out of Lothering. "But-" 

"Hey, Nuada, can we pause a bit? Oghren wants to see someone!" The whole groups stops, and Nuada tugs out a map from his pack. "So, Oghren, where are we going?" 

…He honestly hadn't expected them to agree so quickly nor with such warm smiles. "It's called the Spoiled Princess, by some lake…" 

"Oh, that's here." Alistair points to a place on the map. "It's not too far from where we are." 

"Then that's our next destination," Nuada declares. He glanced at Oghren with a sly look. "So… someone, huh? A lady friend?" He scowls and Nuada snickers. "This I really have to see. I'll be your wing man." 

These Wardens might be a little more cracked than he thought. But, hey… made things interesting. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: And here is Oghren, and hints to his companion quest. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Denerim with Layla (Landsmeet Arc begins) 


	93. Chapter 81) Denerim

Chapter 81) Denerim 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"Welcome back, Lady Revka, Lady Layla." I giggled and waved at the servants as Mommy and I walked inside the estate. I loved coming home. Everyone always took the time to come greet us! "Did you have a good day?"_

_"Yeah!" I chirped, beaming and waving. "I got to talk to Uncle Gamlen today! He's suuuuper nice!"_

_"We're glad to hear that, Lady Layla."_

* * *

Denerim was the heat and soul of Fereldan, city of King Calenhad, as stubborn as a mabari and as good to have on your side. That is how Nuada explained Denerim to the others as we made our way to Arl Eamon's estate. Well, it was more that he led us there, and then popped over to the Cousland Estate to see whether or not his brother and nephew were in town yet. I think he was trying to avoid my complaints about how he _actually did act as Oghren's wingman._

"I can't believe how well it worked!" Alistair laughed as we walked inside the estate. Numerous servants bowed to us as we passed, though I saw them give us strange looks. Shale bore the brunt of them, though she did not seem to mind one bit. "Felsi seemed to be looking forward to seeing you again, Oghren, you stud." 

"I've still got it!" Oghren chuckled. He did seem a lot happier. There was a linger sorrow to him, but I noticed he did not drink quite as much. Though, that was not saying much. Just yesterday, he had drunkenly confused Nuada for some pretty maiden and hit on her. Of course, Nuada playing along had not helped matters one bit. "So, this Landsmeet thing." Oh, yes, Oghren and Shale had not joined us when we set up all the plans. "Just tell me why it's important." 

"It is the best way to defeat Loghain," Wynne explained. She eyed the windows carefully for some reason. "Spots. There are spots on the windows." Ah. "Regardless, we need soldiers, and Loghain to pay for Ostagar." I would just be happy if he stopped opposing us. "The Landsmeet forces him to confront us openly." 

"Yeah, but has he really done anything?" 

"He is the reason why there are so few of us running around for alliances." 

"And he somehow poses a threat still?" 

"Well, perhaps not _now_. That's the point. This is the moment we've been working for." Yes, we had. The rumors in the market favored us highly. 'Oathbreaker' was on many lips. So long as we did not purposely antagonize potential allies, we should be fine. I hope. "Ah, there are Aiden and Cleon." Ah! 

"Hey, everyone!" Aiden greeted warmly. He held his arms out for a hug, and I bolted to be the first one. "Welcome! You're later than expected. We got worried." 

"We made a detour for Oghren," I explained, popping back so I could hug Cleon. I noticed he clung, and peered at his face worriedly. His slight, small smile told me 'later', so I simply nodded, and smiled warmly back. "Nuada went to visit the Cousland Estate." 

"Lady Elspeth did the same." That made sense. "Regardless, again, welcome to the Redcliffe Estate or whatever the official name is called. We're 'honored guests', so expect lots of badgering from servants." 

Cleon waved to catch our attention, and grinned as he signed, 'they have already asked Morrigan, twice, if she wanted clothes, since they think she is running around in her underwear.' Even Shale managed a chuckle for that. 'So, we should we showing you all to your rooms, but Aiden and I were on our way to talk to Eamon.' 

"Oh, I can lead everyone," Alistair volunteered, waving his hand. "I used to live here, sort of. I slept in the kennels." What?! "But I still know the place, mostly. Unless I'm needed?" 

'You should be fine this time.' Cleon gave him a serious look, though, and Alistair returned it with a smile. Cleon slowly smiled back. 'We _are_ stealing Layla though'. 

"No, I am stealing you!" I laughingly declared, snagging both of their arms and dragging them off. Wynne and Oghren laughed as we disappeared down the hallway. "So, which way are we going?" 

"This way, Mistress Layla," Aiden answered. He gave me a warm smile. "Good to see you." 

"It is wonderful to see you two again too. Nuada found out something from Flemeth at Ostagar." 

"We found out a bit too." Aiden and Cleon exchanged an exasperated look. Something told me the adventure at the Keep had been much more 'adventurous' than anticipated. "We'll exchange stories later, when Lord Nuada is back." 

'For now, we will see what Eamon has to say,' Cleon signed, hooking his arm with mine. 'We have a Landsmeet to prepare for.' Yes, we did. I was ready for it. 

* * *

Eamon had given me a warm, kind smile when he realized I was here, and had politely asked if I wanted to wait a bit before chatting business. It was only after I reassured him, multiple times, that I was more than fine enough for simply talking that he led the discussion. It was basically going over, again, what the base plan was for the Landsmeet, with him wanting clarification on what _our_ group, minus Nuada, Elspeth, and Alistair, were going to do. 

The discussion, however, abruptly stopped with the crashing of the doors. We all turned to it, and saw two people walk in, a third guarding the open door. I vaguely remembered her from Ostagar, as Loghain's right hand, but all my attention was on the two walking for us. Loghain and Howe. 

Loghain. I had not seen him since Ostagar. Back then, he had been intimidating, yet reassuring, someone who had taken time to ease my nerves. Now, he seemed almost… small. After everything I had seen, he was just a man. He was just a human man with some martial prowess. I could almost laugh at how… unthreatened I felt. 

I felt the same about Howe. When I last saw him, I had been so flabberghasted. How could someone betray his friend? How could someone laugh and joke with the family, looking into their eyes and knowing they would be dead? But now, he just seemed… he just seemed to be a man. He was a pathetic man who could only attain victory through ambush. 

What were these two, compared to everything I faced? This Landsmeet was ours. 

"This is an honor," Eamon greeted slowly. His smile was kind, gentle even. It was almost as if Eamon did not know Loghain had tried to have him killed. "The Regent himself would find time to visit me personally?" Automatically, I started signing for Cleon so that he could keep up. "I'm sure you must be busy." 

"How could I not welcome a man so important as to call ever lord in Fereldan from his estates while a Blight claws at our lands?" Loghain immediately replied. I exchanged a look with Cleon and Aiden, rolling my eyes. _Now_ he was paying attention to the Blight. We had only been fighting it by ourselves for Maker knows how long. 

"The Blight is exactly _why_ I have called it. With Cailan dead, Fereldan must have a king to dead it against the darkspawn." 

"Fereldan has a stronger leader: its queen." 

"Fereldan has a Regent, with the supposedly strong queen nowhere to be found," Aiden deadpanned. Loghain looked startled, and Aiden gave him a look. "You can push forward Anora all you like-" 

"Queen to you-" 

"I am the leader of the Wardens, a group your decision annihilated, and I will address _anyone_ as I see fit, _Loghain_." Loghain looked so startled, and it took me a moment to realize why. He had not realized how much we had all changed. He was expecting a meek city elf, not a battle-hardened commander. "Regardless, you can push her all you like, but whether you intend to or not, your actions have damaged her credibility." I glanced at Cleon, making sure he was still following, and he nodded. The sudden interruptions had not been enough to throw him off this time. "She might still be loved, but even in the distant villages, the people wonder if there should be a new ruler, since in this time of crisis, she has done nothing, but let you, and your talking ass of a right hand, take over and run the country into the ground." 

"This is why we had to cull the herd in the Alienage, my lord," Howe sighed. He sneered at us. "They start thinking they're people." 

Aiden's eyes glinted as he smiled politely. "Oh, are we going with threats now?" The air was heavy with tension, and I wondered if a fight was going to break out right here and now. "Then let me give you a better one. I killed a lord in his home and slaughtered all of his guards in retaliation for the kidnapping of my bride and my friends, and for the rape of my cousin. All prior to becoming a Warden. You might be a veteran, but even under the armor, I can see the belly the years have put on you, and I can see how you strain to maintain any sort of fighting prowess. I think you can guess how quickly a fight between you and I would end, especially since you just implied you have actively attacked and _killed_ people I have grown up with." 

"If that is the case, then why has your little mage not cast a single spell?" What was he…? "Too scared? I recall stories of how she shook at Ostagar." Oh, I knew what was going on now. 

"It is sign language," I answered coolly. I smiled softly. "Cleon lost his hearing while we were securing our alliance with the Dalish Elves, so we are translating your words for him." I felt my smile stiffen. "I _could_ cast a spell if you would like, but considering how much I hate you, I highly doubt you will survive the experience." Perhaps that was a little blunt? I was getting some odd looks, but Cleon was _beaming_ at me, so maybe it had not been. "We can also translate verbally for Cleon, but I think he likes you two even less, so you would be barraged with his cutting wit." Cleon hid a smile behind his hand. He was definitely enjoying this. 

"Oh, dear, Uncle Loghain, Uncle Rendon, what ever did you two say to rile Layla's temper?" A gently chiding voice shattered the tension. Confused, I looked to the door and saw Elspeth and Nuada walking in. The lady guarding the door bowed to them both, and had not even bothered to bar them. "Eamon, you should have told us you were expecting guests," Elspeth continued. She had a warm smile on her face. "Nuada and I would have returned sooner to help you prepare. Uncle Rendon's joints are hurting him, so perhaps some special teas?" 

"It looks like Uncle Loghain could use some as well, based on how ashen he looks," Nuada added, with a bright, bright smile. I exchanged a look with Aiden and Cleon, and got only shrugs in reply. Well, it seems whatever was going on, they had not told anyone what the plan was. How unsurprising. "Uncle Loghain? You look like someone hit you in the head." 

"Nuada, what in Andraste's name did you do to your eyes?" Loghain breathed. His eyes were wide and he actually looked genuinely concerned. "The clouded… but the silver…?" 

"Oh, it's just the dangerous of demons and dragons, respectively. Don't fret so much, Uncle Loghain! Despite the injury, I am an even stronger warrior than before, thanks to my friends." He slid to my side, and kissed my temple. "Besides, I _have_ to show of to the lady love." I swatted at his shoulder, barely checking the urge to giggle, and he grinned. "Scale of one to ten, Cleon, how much do you want to kill me now?" Cleon _immediately_ held up 'nine'. "Oh, is it just nine? Alack, alay! However will I live knowing that I am not a perfect ten!" 

"Please, forgive his antics. We just got back from talking to Fergus," Elspeth laughed. "He encourages him so much." She stood next to Aiden, still smiling warmly. I finally thought to look to Eamon, and noticed he just looked _amused_. "Highever's recovery is going wonderfully, by the way. Sadly, it seems like Thomas didn't know a thing about ruling the place, but with most of the damages done, it's almost as if he were never there at all." I saw Howe clench his jaw. He was _mad_. "But here we are just babbling in the foyer. I really should be offering you some tea." 

"What a good opportunity to poison us," Howe growled. Yes, he was mad. "Something you learned from that Antivan whore your brother married?" 

"My goodness, Uncle Rendon, what an accusation! I would not dare think of such a thing. After all, you are guests to Eamon, just as I am." There was an edge to her smile. "You do not think I need to stoop so low as to violate the laws of hospitality to do you harm?" I… believe this was the first time I had heard of such a thing? "The host must not harm the guest, and the guest must not harm the host. That is the most basic part of it, yes?" If smiles could kill, Elspeth would have obliterated Howe. "Surely, you can recall that, yes?" Howe actually made to attack, but Loghain shifted to block him. I almost thought it a pity. If he had attacked, then the rest of us could have retaliated. Cleon's twitching fingers told me was _begging_ to do so. "Oh, goodness!" 

"This is getting out of hand," Loghain muttered. He looked between Nuada and Elspeth, looking strangely hesitant. "You two…" 

"It is a pleasure to see you, Uncle Loghain," Nuada replied. He was still smiling brightly. "But if you are not here for tea, then we simply must ask you to leave. There is a lot that we must do to prepare for the Landsmeet, and for going through the process of naming someone 'Oathbreaker' legally." 

Loghain did not even reply to that. He simply sighed, giving the two a look that was some strange combination of forlorn pride, and walked away without a token goodbye. Howe tripped after him, apparently not expecting the sudden 'end' to the conversation. 

The lady, however, was waiting for them, and closed the door behind them as they departed. When the door slammed shut, Elspeth sighed, shoulders slumping. I think she actually almost collapsed, but Cleon surged to her side, catching her easily. "It has been a long time since I have been that nervous," she murmured. I gaped, stunned by the admission. _That had been nervous?!_ "I think I might be ill." 

"Bloody flames, it was like being in Orlais again!" Nuada groaned. He decided to lean on Aiden's shoulder, rubbing his temple. "Maker's bloody balls, seriously, what _did_ you all do? That had been the last thing Elspeth and I suspected when walking in." W-well… "Where's Alistair? Someone check for assassins." Huh? "They might have used the confrontation as an excuse to-" Loud noises, sounding suspiciously like yelps and crashes, echoed down the hall. "Eamon?" 

"I am going to get affairs in order," Eamon replied. He was still incredibly amused. "I am _delighted_ that you all are taking lead here. It promises to be entertaining." Oh, well, that was good? "But yes, please go make sure no one is adding crimson to the curtains. They will clash horribly." 

This was going to be a weird day. 

* * *

It turned out that there _had_ been assassins. Two had gone for Alistair, and he had killed them easily before wondering what was going on. Leliana and Zevran scoured the estate and took out five others. Morrigan, in a beautiful show of pragmatism, turned the last three into ice sculptures. We gave them to Wynne and Sten for interrogation, and set about trying to settle into our rooms. 

This was about the time I had discovered the hallway was exactly ten and a half steps wide. I knew this because I had repeatedly tested it, for my curiosity and because I was pacing in the hallway. A sudden thought had suddenly gripped me while we were all moving into our rooms, and now I was constantly debating the pros and cons of said thought. 

On the one hand, the thought made me very happy and giddy and content. On the other, said thought had some… interesting implications that I was not certain I was ready for. That was not even going into how… well, I did not want to cause trouble, and this might? The worst my group would do would involve teasing, I knew, but what about what the servants thought? Would it somehow jeopardize our…? Oh, I was probably overthinking this, but I was _nervous_. I overthought when I was nervous! 

"Oh, now what's this?" A laughing voice caught my attention. "Are you testing how sturdy the floor is, ma belle?" A kiss on the ear made me squeak, and Nuada's laugh only grew when I turned to glower at him. "You have some of the best reactions," he teased. Deciding to get even, I hopped up to kiss his nose. "Ack!" He made a face, and I could only laugh. 

"You have pretty good reactions too," I teased him back, giggling. He rolled his eyes, but smiled softly. "So, what is going on?" 

"I think I need to be asking you that, considering I counted fifteen cycles of pacing and you seemed at it prior to me seeing you." He reached behind my hair and carefully undid my bun. "So, what's up?" From there, he gently undid my braid, making sure to not yank on the tangles. "You're right outside my door." 

"Am I bothering?" 

"You never could, but I _was_ planning on taking a bath." …That was a mental image I was not sure if I needed. "Would you like to join me~?" 

"Nuada!" My squeak just made him laugh. "You are incorrigible!" 

"Oh, yes, I very much am." He leaned down, brushing his nose against mine as my hair fluttered across my back, down for the first time in a long while. "May I kiss you?" 

"Please?" I caught the flash of a smile before he closed the gap, kissing me warmly and softly. I did my best to kiss him back, but I was aware how I was clumsy compared to him. That was fine, though, yes? I would get better. Besides, the slightly dazed look on his face when he pulled away told me he did not think I was a 'bad' kisser. "Hee…" 

"What's so funny?" 

"I love you how look after we kiss." He looked a little confused. "You are all unfocused and dreamy." 

"Is that so?" He smiled slightly. "Hmm, now should I tell you how you look?" I knew how I _felt_. I was giddy, and felt like I was queen of the world. "Perhaps I should do that later. Did you have something to ask me?" 

"Ah, yes, I did!" Of course, the prospect of bringing it up just made me nervous all over again. "Ah…" This was just ridiculous. I have faced down darkspawn, demons, dragons, and who knows _what_ else. I would not be afraid of asking a simple question! "Nuada?" 

"Yes?" 

"…Can we share a room?" He stilled, giving me the most incredulous look. That look made me glance down, face burning. "I-I am not certain if I want to… you know… do the implications of such a question, yet. I… really do not have much experience in any of this. But I would like…" My face was on fire. "I would like to simply… wake up beside you, and have your heartbeat near while I sleep?" 

"Is that so?" He sounded so calm that I could not help but glower up. Then I froze, because he was wearing the _sweetest_ smile. "That sounds like paradise there." He took my hand and kissed it gently. "And don't worry about sex. I am quite enjoying being in love, not lust." O-oh, that was… good to know. "So, should I move my stuff to your room or yours to mine?" 

"My room has a lovely view of the gardens." 

"Then your room it is." His smile was soft as he leaned down to brush a kiss over my mouth. "I love you." 

"And I, you." 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Welcome to the Landsmeet Arc, the second to last 'arc' of Saga. Personally speaking, the Landsmeet is my _favorite_ part of the game. While in game, Loghain seems to have more 'control', the Wardens in this story… well, they weren't having that! In game, Cauthrien is also here, but I had her guarding the door instead, since I couldn't fit her in easily. 
> 
> Sacred Hospitality is… 'less' important in the modern era (this is highly dependent on culture, religion, and location), but _incredibly important_ in past eras. It's not really something mentioned in Dragon Age, but it stands to reason that it would be common (and it just adds to Howe's… howeness). 
> 
> Next Chapter – Aiden in Denerim 


	94. Chapter 82) Haunting Pasts

Chapter 82) Haunting Pasts 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"Aiden!" Mother laughed as she called my name. "Come on, my little soldier! I need your help to clean!"_

_"Why do you need my help?" I teased, even as I ran over to her. "You're strong enough to move everything on your own."_

_"Yes, yes." Mom's smile was warm. "But I need to go fetch something from the market, so I want you to get started for me." She laughed again when I made a face. "Please, my little one?"_

_"Why don't I go to the market instead?"_

_"Because, Aiden, the whole point of cleaning is to get things ready for your birthday!" She tapped my nose to make me squirm. "You can't go pick up your birthday presents. That will ruin the surprise!"_

_"Fine, fine." I sighed, shaking my head. "Love you, Mother."_

_"I love you too, Aiden." She laughed and waved as she walked off, leaving the Alienage for the market._

_That was the last time I saw her alive. Humans murdered her for the twelve bronze coins she had after buying my present: a pair of gauntlets that I could never bring myself to wear._

* * *

"The market is so lovely!" Leliana laughed as she and I meandered through the crowd. "A shame Zevran couldn't come along like we originally planned." He was following up on something the assassins from a few days ago said. It seemed important. "Morrigan is listening on some nobles as a pretty little bird, yes?" 

"Yes, that's correct," I confirmed. She had made a big show at transforming, just to scare the servants. It took forever to calm them down. "We have to make sure Shale doesn't accidentally hurt her." 

"Yes, yes." She giggled, though, clearly in her element. "Now, we should listen to rumors, and spin a few of our own." She could do the latter. I was just doing the former. "And…" She suddenly trailed off, eyes going wide. "Marjolaine…?" The one word shook so much. I could barely understand it. "What is she…?" Her hands shook even more. "I…" And then she was off, pushing through the crowd. I followed her as closely as I could, doing my best to not lose sight of her. What was going on? 

Eventually, we were out of the market, heading towards one of the hovels, one run down enough to look like a building from the Alienage. Leliana paused at the door, glancing back. She seemed almost relieved when she saw me, and she opened the door without a word. Confused, I just followed her inside, wondering what in flames was going on. 

"Ah, Leliana!" I blinked slowly, startled by the very elegantly dressed woman standing in the middle of the hovel. "So good to see you again," the woman purred, Orlesian accent very thick. Who was this? "You're looking wonderful as always." Uh… "Oh, did you bring a gift for me? You shouldn't have." The woman slinked over to me, trailing a hand up my torso and neck. "So handsome… you would be a fine-" I grabbed her wrist and squeezed, snapping it easily. "AUGH!" She stumbled back, eyes wide, blazing in fury. "How _dare_ a lowly _rabbit_ …!" 

"Aiden is the Commander of the Grey Wardens in Fereldan," Leliana growled. Her eyes sparked with fury, so I figured now was _not_ a time to point out that I held no such title. "He is one of my dearest friends, and came because he worried." Yeah, and also because I was really, really confused. "Skip the pleasantries. And get to the point. You can't wield your bow with a broken wrist." 

"How did he break it so easily?" Because I accidentally drank an alchemical concoction that boosted the abilities of my Tainted Blood which had very practical applications. "Bah, no matter…" The woman shook her head. "I'd try to be a good host, but you see what I have to work with, and I really can't do much with a broken wrist." I had a headache. "This country smells like wet dog everywhere. It's in my hair, my clothes…" She sighed heavily. 

"I am not here to discuss Fereldan's odor, Marjolaine!" Leliana's voice cracked. "You _framed me_ years ago!" She did what? "You stabbed me in the stomach, framed me, left me to be raped and tortured in the cells of Denerim's estate!" Ah… maybe I shouldn't be here to hear this. "I thought I was free from you here! Why are you haunting me?!" 

"Oh, Leliana, I know you. I know what you're capable of. You escaped easily, did you not?" Marjo… I was just going to call her Marjo because I could not wrap my head around that name. Marjo was dismissive, but the look on Leliana's face implied it hadn't been 'easy'. "But I was so distraught that you did not return to my side, so I simply had to find you, my dear love." 

"Just get to the point!" Leliana sounded ready to cry. I just lingered awkwardly in the doorway. "Why are you really here?" 

"In truth, you have knowledge that can be used against me." She made to cross her arms, but winced as her hand dangled awkwardly off her arm. "You know the Game, Leliana. For my own safety, I cannot let you be." I really needed to learn what this damn 'Game' was. Everything mentioned about Orlais seemed to be bringing it up. "Did you truly think you escaped me, my Leliana? That I did not know where you were?" Stalker, much? "Goodness, you confused me so. Quiet life, peasant clothes, hair messy and ragged like a boy's… it baffled me." 

"I was living a new life." 

"You almost had me fooled too. No letters, barely speaking to anyone, not even the stories you told to the villagers in that quaint little town hinted to anything." She shook her head, smirking. "Very clever. But then you left the Chantry so suddenly. What conclusion should I have drawn?" …What. 

"There's a _Blight_ , you pompous, egotistical, megalomaniac," I deadpanned, unable to keep quiet. She sneered at me, but Leliana actually burst into startled laughter. "I hate to inform you, madam, but there _are_ things more important in the world than you." 

"Madam?!" she yelped. That… that was what she was going to be mad about? That was seriously going to be... oh, whatever. "How dare you!" 

"I'm so sorry, Elder." She looked even more outraged. This was actually hilarious. "Careful, careful. I think I see some wrinkles coming on." Her non-broken hand flew to her face. "Sorry, Leliana, I'm sure you had things to say." 

"It's fine," Leliana reassured. "I needed the laugh." But her cheer faded as she looked back to Marjo. "I did not leave for you. I am not you." 

"Oh, yes, you are," Marjo growled. She smiled seductively, creeping closer. "No one will ever understand you like I do, my dear. No one will ever love you as I did. Because, my dear, you _are_ me." She caressed Leliana's cheek. I waited to see if Leliana wound do anything, but when I saw she was frozen, I reached over and twisted Marjo's arm, accidentally snapping it. 

"Oops," I murmured as she screamed in pain. "Honestly didn't mean to break anything that time. Though, I have to say; abusers deserve worse." I glanced at Leliana, waiting until she saw me before nudging her arm. "So, I've accidentally disarmed her, almost literally." Leliana managed a giggle in reply. "Choose what you want to do with her." 

"…Yes," she murmured. She looked around the room before turning to me. "You have a knife?" I pulled out Fang, Mother's dagger, from my boot and passed it to her. "Thank you." 

Marjo said something, in Orlesian so I couldn't understand. Whatever it was, it made Leliana flinch before she brought the dagger down. 

She stabbed Marjo again and again, blood flying everywhere. I counted forty strikes before I caught her by the shoulder to stop her. Marjo was almost completely unrecognizable. 

"Do you want to talk?" I asked her. Leliana only shook her head, staring at the body. Blood dripped down her face. "Then let's head back to the estate to clean up. I know hidden paths thanks to my previous work." She nodded and stood up slowly. She glanced down at the knife, tilting her head. "You can clean and return it to me later." She nodded. "Come on. Let's go." 

As we left, she snagged my hand, squeezing tightly. I squeezed back reassuringly. I think she just needed something to ground her, and I didn't mind being it. 

* * *

When I brought Leliana back to the estate, I wondered how we were going to explain things. However, Lady Elspeth seemed to know _something_ was wrong, as she appeared almost immediately, towel in hand, and spoke only Orlesian as she dragged her off to get washed up. She signed to me 'Leave her to me', so I smiled and shrugged before heading back out to listen to the rumors. 

The rumors were rather nice to hear. Defamation of Loghain, complete ripping apart of Howe, Oathbreaker process being cheered for, praise for our group… honestly, it seemed like the only real 'debating' going on was who should rule Fereldan: Alistair, an unknown bastard son of Maric, or Anora, the widow queen. And there were really interesting things to hear about that debate. 

There were many who wondered if Anora had conspired _with_ her father to kill her husband for the throne. Others insisted that wasn't the case, that it was all Loghain's fault. Some pointed out how well she had ruled for the past five years. Others pointed out that she had done nothing for the current problem, a _true_ crisis. Many pointed out that she was her father's daughter, skilled and clever, but some wondered if that was the problem. They worried she was overconfident in her own abilities, unwilling to compromise her visions even to save her people, and that was why the current situation has devolved so badly. 'She believes she is the only one who knows how to fix things, and everyone should stay out of their way, even when all evidence shows she is in way over her head.' 

There were many who wondered, though, if Alistair really _was_ Maric's son. It was certainly 'convenient' that an unknown bastard suddenly showed up, to challenge Anora's claim. Others liked that he has been fighting on the front, though, impressed that he was actually dealing with the problem. Others worried about his lack of training in political matters. 'He is a good man to have during a crisis, but can he rule a country into peace?' 

Still others thought that Anora and Alistair should just marry, to get the 'best of both worlds'. A true Warrior King, and a proven Diplomatic Queen. I didn't much like that idea, and not _just_ because I knew Alistair was in love with Lady Elspeth, and she with him, no matter how much they danced around each other. Alistair _hated_ Loghain, loathed him for destroying the only 'family' he ever had. That would cause problems with Anora, who adored her father above all else. Plus, Alistair was very similar to King Cailan, both in looks and personality, surprisingly so. Wouldn't it just be cruel to force her to marry her dead husband's younger brother? I thought so, but maybe that was just my opinion. 

"And so here is the mighty Grey Warden at long last." I paused at the words, glancing around to find the source. I was in one of the side areas of Denerim, a place normally empty except during festivals. "Well, one of them, at least. The leader." There, lounging on the edge of a room, was a man with an Antivan accent. He bowed when I caught his eye. "The Crows send their greetings," he told me. "Once again." Oh, you have got to be kidding me. 

"I thought you lot gave up when Zevran failed," I groaned, rubbing my temple. I needed to just leave the estate with my weapons from now on always. 

"And where _is_ Zevran?" He jumped down from the roof, utilizing window ledges to land safely. "How disappointing that he's not with you." 

"If you're here to kill me, can we just get to the part where I punch you out of my misery?" I had faced down darkspawn, demons, dragons, and far too much else. I couldn't bring myself to be scared of a human assassin who _openly challenged me_. "Though I imagine I'll have to avoid the daggers." I was assuming poison. 

"Aw, but I wanted to talk. Find out where Zevran is." 

"Zevran is right here, Taliesin." Oh, hello, Zevran, nice of you to join us. "Did they send you here, my friend?" he asked. I glared up at the sky, wondering if the Maker could see me. Could he have at least spaced out these two events a little more, damn it? "Or did you volunteer?" 

"I volunteered, of course," Taliesin replied. He looked almost insulted that Zevran even questioned it. "When I heard the Great Zevran himself went rogue, I had to see it for myself." 

"Is that so? Well, here I am, in the flesh." Zevran sighed. "I would have been here sooner if your damn scavenger hunt didn't take me all over the city." 

"Come now. Wasn't it just like training? Only without the beatings." Taliesin smiled and held out his hand. "Come home, Zevran. I know your head is still messed up because of what happened to Rinna." Who? Maker, please, can you let me find out my friends' past _when they want me to_? Why did you have to drag their pasts out to haunt them and make my life uncomfortable? "I don't blame you. It really was fucked up." My head hurt. Could I leave? "We can make up a story, though. I'll keep you safe, just as I did in the past." 

"…No." Zevran shook his head. "No, my friend. It's time that I finally protect myself. I will not return. I am in a place when I am valued as more than a weapon." 

"Zevran…!" Taliesin's eyes widened, and I was startled to see they were filled with tears. "The Crows will kill you!" 

"I will kill them first. It is not hard fighting, when your spirit is finally whole." Zevran drew his weapons, and I stepped back to stay out of the way. "Strike me down or leave, Taliesin. That is the only choice left to us." 

Taliesin chose to charge, tears streaming down his face. Zevran dodged easily, though, and it took me a couple of blinks to realize all that happened. Zevran threw one dagger, a trick I had seen Leliana teach him and Cleon many times, and as Taliesin's guard fell, he slipped in and struck Taliesin in the chest, through both a lung and the heart. Taliesin gasped in shock, blood speckling his lips as he whispered something I couldn't understand. I could only make out 'Rinna'. 

Then Taliesin was dead, collapsing in Zevran's arms. He cradled the body briefly before setting it down gently. 

"The year the Crows bought me, they bought seventeen others," Zevran began slowly. His voice was flat, and he just looked at the body. Taliesin was smiling, even as the tears lingered on his dead face. "However, only two of us survived the training, me and Taliesin. We partnered up, in… well, in both sense of the word. He was my best friend." Ah… "Eventually, we met another, Rinnala. We called her 'Rinna'. I think she was an elfblooded human, because she frequently talked about living in an Alienage, despite her human ears." 

"Rare, that," I murmured. Most elfblooded humans just… lived as humans. They could. Slim was the only one I knew that didn't. Then again, as far as I knew, I only _knew_ two: Slim and Layla. "So, I take it you three were close." 

"Haha, very close. We were a single unit among the crows, too skilled to split apart. She was the brains, I was the seducer and poisoner, and Taliesin was the muscle." I see… "But then, one day, things just went wrong. It seemed like Rinna had betrayed us, so Taliesin and I killed her." He sighed heavily, slumping. "I found out later that wasn't the case at all. She had been framed, some deal made among the Grandmasters. We were expendable, nothing more than weapons." So, Leliana was directly betrayed, and Zevran _thought_ he had been, only to have killed the wrong person. Well, damn. "She screamed that she loved us, loved me, as we killed her." 

"That's…" What could I say? 

"Ha… made it hard to watch that Thomas lad die. It was like I was back in the past." Oh, that's right. I had heard Thomas confessed to Lady Elspeth before she shot the arrow. "Ah, that's enough of the past." He gave me a wan smile. "Let's go." 

"Do you want to burn the body first?" 

"…We'll take him to the Chantry for that." Okay. "Let's go." 

"Yes." 

* * *

It seemed like a good idea to just return to the estate after dropping off Taliesin's body. Oghren took one look at Zevran and dragged him off to do something. Drink, maybe? Or banter. Or both. Leliana was still resting in her room, talking to Lady Elspeth and Wynne, so I didn't bother her. 

Instead, I just spent the rest of the day in the library, wondering if maybe there was something more about the Archdemon here. It was a slim possibility, but perhaps there was some old story or nursery rhyme that held the answer. You heard about knowledge being passed on like that in stories often. 

But ressurective immortality that could only be ended by a Warden? Somehow? And no Warden who killed the Archdemon lived to see the peace they won? Was it just chance? Lady Elspeth had mentioned Garahel had been flung a great distance. Others might have just been too injured. But what if it was something more? What if it was a guarantee? 

After everything we suffered and survived, was one of us going to have to die to save the world? 

I growled under my breath as I returned to my room, having found _nothing_ in the library to help with these dark thoughts. I was so caught up in said thoughts and frustration that I had my shirt off and almost took off my pants too, for a relaxing bath, before realizing I wasn't alone in my room. 

"Oh, please, do not stop on my account!" Zevran joked. He was sprawled out on my bed, smirking. Well, someone seemed better. "I was quite enjoying the show." 

"I'm sure," I deadpanned. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, noting it was getting longer. Much longer, actually. Come to think of it, all of our hair was longer. It wasn't like we had time to sit down for haircuts in the middle of everything. "Need something? Need to talk?" 

"Well, yes, actually." Zevran shifted so that he was sitting on my bed instead. "Looks like your tattoo is healing well." 

"Yes, it is?" A pair of griffon wings on my lower back, curling around my waist and hips. I rather liked it. "It doesn't hurt or anything anymore." 

"Good, I'm glad. I rather like it." I was just going to go wash my face or something until he got to the po- "I rather like the person it's on too." …Wha…? "Oh, whoops, did I say that aloud? Ah, well. The cat's out of the bag." 

"You… what?" I faced him, staring with wide eyes. 

He looked deadly serious. "I rather like you. Perhaps, even love." A-ah… "I do enjoy the little flirting games, but I think my feelings are becoming a bit too serious for me to just play. I realized that, as I was carrying Taliesin into the Chantry." Oh. "So, I figured I'd get everything out into the open." He stood, coming to stand in front of me. I could only continue to stare. "See what happens, if anything. No obligations. If you do not return the feelings, then we'll pretend the conversation didn't happen, and after a few days for me to sulk, we'll return to the game with the knowledge that it is only that. A game." I… "I know the timing is off, but I assure you, I mean every word." That's… "So?" 

"Ah…" I couldn't think. I hadn't been expecting anything like this. Lord Nuada's words ran through my head, but I couldn't figure out a way to even think coherently, much less string anything into words. 

After a long bout of silence, Zevran smiled wryly, as if he expected it. "Ah, what a shame, but if they are unrequited, they are unrequited." He shrugged, and turned away. I saw the pain in his back, even though his voice was light. "I shan't keep you any longer, so-" 

I reached out to snag his arm, keeping him from leaving. I wasn't even sure _why_ … but… but… "I'm scared." There. There, I got that out. He held still, just listening. "I'm scared of loving someone. I'm scared of even thinking about loving someone." My voice cracked, and I swore I was near tears. "But I do like being around you. I do like the teasing, the banter. I do _like_ you. I'm just scared." 

There was a long, long bout of silence, where I kept my head down, studying the stone tiles of the floor. Then, Zevran turned back towards me, and rested a gentle hand on my cheek. "Then, how about we be scared together?" He was scared too? "How does that sound?" 

"Can you deal with something like that?" 

"I think you are _well_ worth it." Those words just made me start crying. I wasn't even sure why I _was_ crying. "I do believe this is the first time I've seen your tears." Maybe? I couldn't really remember crying a lot. "They're pretty, but I definitely prefer your smile." 

"Sorry…" 

"No, no, I rather like _all_ of you." He smiled warmly and hugged me, drawing my face into his shoulder. "There, there. Let it out." 

"You're loving the role reversal." 

"That's how a relationship should work." Yeah, I could see that. 

So, I simply relaxed, crying tears that made no sense, and let him hold me. I liked this. I liked being near him. 

Maybe I did love him. Or maybe I could learn to love him. Regardless, he was important to me. That… that was worth being scared for. I figured that much, at least. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: And… there we go? Ahaha? And this is basically the last of the companion quests (I dislike Alistair's in-game one, so we're not doing it). As a bit of a reminder, the Warden's Keep DLC gives your Warden two extra abilities. What I've done for Aiden, though, is that it gives him the ability to utilize the Taint to increase his strength and speed, and also increase the speed that he perceives things. This is why he could break Marjolaine's bones so easily. Also bringing in the arguments between Anora and Alistair. Both are good choices, imo, and I do _like_ both of them. The choice is going to be based on the chars. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Nuada in Denerim 


	95. Chapter 83) Hearts

Chapter 83) Hearts 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_I hid in the corner, hands over my ears. I had faced down assassins in the past, but they hadn't scared me like this. Father and Mother were arguing over something, something about me. I knew because I heard my name._

_What was wrong? Did they hate each other? Is it my fault? It was, wasn't it?_

_"Nuada!" I whimpered at my name. Mother sounded so mad. "Nuada! Where are you?" Wait, no, she sounded distressed. "Nuada!"_

_"I'm over here," I mumbled. I wasn't sure if she heard me, but she did appear in the room pretty quickly after. "Hi?"_

_"Oh, Nuada, there you are." She smiled in relief and came over to hug me. "I was so worried. Let's go reassure your father. He's been panicking ever since Nan told us you had escaped your nap."_

_"…Do you hate him?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"You were yelling." I felt her stiffen. "You both were yelling. Do you hate him now?"_

_"Oh, sweetie…" Mother pulled away, smiling softly. "Don't fret. I still love him very much, and him me. We just forgot to talk about things that were bothering us, and it all spilled out."_

_"I heard my name."_

_"Your father wants you to learn swords. I think you're too young." Oh. "Just a little thing that sparked an avalanche. It's not your fault, sweetie." Mmm… "Come on." She hugged me again, and picked me up easily. "Let's go find Bryce. He'll tell you the same."_

_"Okay…"_

* * *

So, Aiden and Zevran were lovers now. I had to admit. I didn't think Aiden would take to anyone. But, hey, if he was happy, and willing to risk it, then all I should do as a friend is do my best to support him. This, of course, included copious amounts of teasing. 

"Did you see his face?" I snickered. Some passing people gave me odd looks, but that was fine. I enjoyed laughing. "That was priceless!" 

"I still can't believe we successfully managed to drop water on them," Alistair laughed. He and I had pulled a little prank, with the servants' permission, since Aiden and Zevran shared a room now. "I think Zevran was very appreciative, though." He waggled his eyebrows, and I burst into laughter. "More seriously, they were laughing before we left, right?" 

"Yes, they were and I think we have to beware of a prank war in our group." 

"Oh, Sten will stop it before long." 

"I think Oghren is going to try and get him drunk." 

"Maker save us!" Both of us laughed and laughed. I was glad. I knew Alistair had been self-conscious of all the people looking at him as we walked from Eamon's Estate to the Cousland estate. "So, here we are." Yes, we were. I smiled at the familiar sight. We stayed here often, especially during Landsmeets. "You sure your brother doesn't mind?" 

"Alistair, we sent a message ahead, remember? It's fine." 

"But…" He sighed when I gave him a look. "Sorry, I'm nervous." 

"I know." That's why I was tagging along. "Shame that Oren and Eoin aren't here." They were with Elspeth. She was taking Oren to a 'playdate', and was going to talk to the nobles to try and get their support. I hoped it would work out for her. I knew she was scared. 

"Yeah, that would distract me." He breathed in deeply, settling his nerves, and then we walked up to the door and knocked. 

It opened almost immediately, revealing a smiling Fergus. "Great timing, you two!" he laughed, waving us in. "Just got the table set up." He quickly led us to the third floor balcony of the estate, which gave an absolutely beautiful view of the city, and gestured for us to sit at the table set up. "I hope you can forgive the whiskey. I didn't feel like wine today." 

"You never feel like wine," I teased. Still, when I sat down, I noticed he had pulled out the _good_ whiskey. Alistair must have made a nice impression last time. He wouldn't pull out this stuff for me. "So, I was surprised you're not busy." 

"Unlike you busy bees?" Fergus grinned, waiting until Alistair sat down before drinking. "I'm going to a party tonight. I can't host any, due to being officially in mourning." He gestured towards his black clothing for emphasis. "But I can, and will, attend others as a guest of honor to argue for Alistair's claim." 

"You're arguing for me?" Alistair asked, looking a little startled. He tried to hide it by drinking, but he drank to fast and started coughing instead. "Um…" 

"Yes, I am," Fergus confirmed. He was having too much fun with this. "It makes Nuada and Elspeth look less like power-hungry puppeteers if _I_ am the one arguing for you. So, those two are going to focus on ousting Loghain, and I'm going to be part of your cheering squad. It makes Eamon look a little better too, since he was the one who called the Landsmeet." 

"But… why would you follow me?" Alistair visibly groped for words. "I mean…" 

"It's simple. I was watching you at Highever. In you, Alistair, I see the traits that made Uncle Maric a good king, and, Maker bless him, I don't see the traits that made Cailan a poorer one." Fergus smiled wryly, sipping his drink. "I love him dearly, but I can admit that Cailan had his flaws. He was starting to grow out of them, and I know he could have been a good king, but he was poorer than Uncle Maric and knew it. It led to some bouts of… overcompensation. Like that time with the giants." All I knew about _that_ story was that it involved cheese. Cailan always laughed too much, and Anora never wanted to talk about it. 

"But aren't you childhood friends with Anora?" 

"Yes, so I do not make this choice lightly." Fergus set his glass down, eyes serious. I contented myself with sipping my own whiskey, smiling as they talked. "But I had two uncles betray me. Regardless of what happened at Ostagar, that Loghain acknowledged Howe's 'claim' to Highever is a devastating betrayal. It is him stating that the slaughter of my wife, my parents, my knights, and my people were justified. It is him stating that the mismanagement of Highever's resources was proper. Howe would have destroyed Highever and everything we stand for, and Loghain's acknowledgement means that he spat on _everything_ the Couslands have done for centuries. Whether or not the law decides if Loghain can be called Oathbreaker, Howe most definitely will be, and Loghain will suffer for it. You can't even justify it away with a 'oh, he didn't know' as _everyone_ knows what happened at Highever." 

"And you bring that up because Anora is her father's daughter, and that's the problem." Alistair's grip tightened on his glass. "She and her father think they're the only ones who can fix things, and everyone should stay out of their way." 

"Exactly." Fergus sighed. "Pride is a good thing, but too much so is… not so much in a ruler. Now, granted, Anora is a very good queen, and having _too little_ pride is just as bad. That much is clear. But she is not in nearly as much control of this situation as she thinks she is, and her inability to see that reminds me of her father more than anything." He leaned back in his chair, looking at the sky. "In his mind, Loghain believes he is a well-intentioned extremist, someone who is performing necessary evil to protect the country he loves and has served all his life. It is… difficult to reconcile the hero who freed the land from oppression with this… this despot whose tyranny generates and exacerbates injustice in the land." 

"And Anora has used that same mentality?" 

"Many times. It's masterful how she manipulates." Fergus smiled wryly. "But that does not change how Anora will use and betray people as necessary to fulfill her goals. That's another way she's like her father." 

"Ostagar…" There was a definite growl in Alistair's voice. 

Fergus actually laughed. "Not even just Cailan and the Wardens." Fergus turned his smile to us. " _If_ all the accusations and rumors have a grain of truth to them, then he promised aid to Uldred and the rebel mages in the Tower, and then abandoned them to the Templars." I hadn't known that. We could use that. "He promised Isolde aid for her son, but sent an assassin instead. Said assassin was a former blood mage who he promised to fix things with the Circle for, but abandoned to his fate. He's even betrayed Anora, as you can see he's all but usurped her." 

"So, all of this is why you're supporting me?" 

"The way I see it, Alistair, so long as my darling little siblings, one of which is being almost unnaturally quiet…" He glanced at me, but I simply smiled. I wasn't here to talk. I was here as moral support until Alistair had the courage to stand on his own two feet for the rest of this talk. "Anyway, so long as they don't catastrophically mess up, Loghain loses, and no matter who rules, Fereldan will be fine. Fereldan will have a good ruler." Fergus shrugged. "But, since we have a choice, I like the idea of gambling on you. As I said, I see traits in you that would make you a good king, and I was impressed by how you led some of the squads during the retaking of Highever. While martial skill doesn't necessarily translate into ruling skill, what I saw makes me hopeful. I like being hopeful." Alistair's small, pleased smile reminded me of something. Alistair had likely never been praised much in his life. It was… it was entirely possible that this was the first time in his life that someone told him that he made them hopeful. The thought made me sad. Even at my worst points, I had my parents. I had my family. "I think you will be a good king for Fereldan, and I think you ruling will be best for Highever." 

"…Thank you." Alistair's smile grew slightly. "Well, now I _really_ have to hit the books. I won't live up to those lofty words if I let myself be led around the nose." 

"Very true." Fergus's pleased smile told me he _had_ been worried of Alistair being a puppet king. "Ah, this has been such a serious talk! I was planning on gossiping, and checking your alcohol tolerance." 

"It's poor. I was a templar recruit, and I roomed with one of the proper ones, Cullen." …I wondered how Cullen _was_ doing. Was he recovering? "But… ah…" Alistair hesitated, but then nodded. "If you don't mind, can I ask a bit about my brother and father? I only… ever saw them from afar." 

"…Yeah, that might be good for both of us." Fergus's smile was soft. "He did know about you, by the way. Cailan, I mean. Never told me _who_ you were, but said he had a half-brother who he wanted to get to know." Fergus laughed a little. "I remember… it was after some tournament the templars held in Uncle Duncan's honor. I wasn't there; I had to run some errands for Father. But I remember how he was so _proud_. He said something like 'my half-brother is a Warden! Is he not amazing? He was chosen to be a Warden!' and you would think someone had just given him the world." 

"…Duncan recruited me at that tournament." Alistiar's smile became a little fragile. "I remember seeing him looking proud, but…" 

Judging it was time for me to leave, I stood up quietly, finishing off my drink. Alistair glanced at me, and after a moment, he nodded. Yes, he was fine. He could handle the rest of this on his own. 

So, I hugged Fergus, grinned at Alistair, and left the Cousland Estate. Time for me to get my work done. 

* * *

So, I tried to get an audience with Anora, only to be told she was 'ill'. Well, if that wasn't a sign that things were wrong, I didn't know what was. She was likely in danger, probably because of Howe, and she was going to play the damsel in distress to try and win support, and probably not be as in control of the situation as she thinks, because I highly doubted she knew how psychotic Howe really was. 

I had a headache. 

"Well, I wasn't expecting to see you here." I looked up from my drink and smiled when I saw Alfstanna. "Wow, what happened to your face?" she asked with a little laugh. Her demeanor was flirtatious, but her eyes were serious. She wanted to talk, and she wanted to not be heard. This was _exactly_ why I had cultivated a reputation as a flirt. "You're still as handsome as ever, of course." 

"I'm pleased to hear the results of my fighting have not caused me to lose your favor!" I replied dramatically. I shifted over on the couch so she could sit next to me, and poured her some wine. "A toast to your continued grace and beauty, Alfstanna?" 

"As always, you're silver-tongued." She accepted the toast though, and sipped it. "Oh, this is a good vintage. What is it?" 

"Secret stash in the back. I ran a favor for certain interested parties while being bored, and got access to it." 

"I know who I'm inviting to my next party." She laughed when I winked. "Ah, it's good to see you, rascal. I was worried." Personally, I was just glad to apparently have an old friend who wasn't going to try and backstab me. At least, I hoped. I was definitely going to keep a card up my sleeve. "So, what's your stance on the throne?" 

"I'm one of the neutral Couslands in this situation. Fergus is the campaigning one." 

"Which tells me something right then and there." She smiled slowly. "But tell me about Alistair. I know Anora." 

"We're friends. It would not be an over exaggeration to call him my best friend, actually." 

"Oh, my. Someone Nuada Cousland is willing to trust." Alfstanna laughed when I made a face. "Something tells me, though, that I'm not getting anything concrete from you." 

"Of course not. You have to form your own opinions. Though, I'm not sure if we're letting Alistair run about without guards." I sighed, remembering this morning. "We've been here only a handful of days, and I think we've dealt with so many assassins, you'd think we were Antiva." 

"Well, that answers my second question of whether Alistair really is King Maric's son." 

"If not, Alfstanna, it's one hell of a coincidence. The family resemblance is _uncanny_." Noticing some people glancing over at us, I leaned in to whisper in her ear. "So, since I am shutting down that topic, was there something else you wanted to ask about?" 

"Yes." Alfstanna giggled, as if I had whispered a joke. "Have you heard anything about my brother?" 

"Irminric?" Well, I wasn't expecting that. "No, I haven't. Why?" 

"He's missing." How did he go missing? Did something get lost while the templars were busy with the mess at the Circle? "The templars say he died fighting a maleficarum, but until there's a body, then I will not believe it." Her grip tightened on her glass. "I refuse to." 

"I'll do what I can to try and track him." I knew what it was like to have a brother missing. I could only hope it would end as happily. 

"Thank you." Her smile was warm and soft, but soon her eyes grew serious. "Nuada, your group is combating the Blight, yes? That's why we're having this Landsmeet?" 

"We have an army, but if we're to stand a chance, we must simply have more soldiers to fight the darkspawn while us Wardens focus on the Archdemon." Should I…? Oh, to the Void with secrets, this was damn important. "I'm not sure on how it works, but Wardens are _literally_ the only ones who can destroy it." 

"Really? I hadn't known that." Yeah, I hadn't either. "So, unintentional or not, in trying to save us from 'Orlais', Loghain really did doom Fereldan." She sighed, shaking her head. She made sure to giggle, though, as if I was paid her some outrageous compliment. "Regardless, Elspeth will be the one debating, yes?" 

"Yeah." 

"I'm intrigued. I've never seen her speak in such a public venue before." That was because she had been absolutely terrified, both shy and anxious in social situations. She still was, and her thoughts were filled with all sorts of what-ifs. She worked with Leliana and Wynne every day to try and work through that fear. "Please, let her know that I am a friend, and will do all I can to support her." Alfstanna… "And tell her to talk to Arl Wulff. He lost his arling, and his sons, to the Blight." Maker… 

"How are his grandchildren?" 

"Safe, thank the Maker." Well, that was a damn miracle right then and there. "I think it will be easy to win his support." 

"I'll let her know." I raised my glass to her. "Now, let us talk of outrageous gossip. You shan't get more out of me today. The rest is Elspeth's fight." 

"I look forward to seeing her do battle with words." She clinked her glass with mine, and laughed. "So, Hahren has been causing trouble again." 

"Oh, Maker, of course she has, the spoiled brat." This was going to be a fun story. I could already tell. "Give me the details. I simply _must_ hear this." 

* * *

After talking to Alfstanna, I decided to check in with the Blackstone Irregulars, some mercenaries based out of Fereldan who often stayed at the Gnawed Noble Tavern. I got a few ideas of favors to do them, and knew that in exchange, I could probably get their swords for a fraction of the normal price. That would be _really_ helpful. 

When I returned to Eamon's Estate in the evening, though, I figured out something was wrong. Cleon was at the door, clearly waiting for me, and he didn't look very happy. 

'I am giving you the benefit of the doubt, by the way,' he immediately signed. I quickly tried to think of what I did, and came up blank. 'But I feel it is best to confront you to get the full story.' 

"Okay…?" I replied slowly, making sure my sign was slow to help him understand I was really confused. "What did I do?" 

'Layla was teary and mumbled something about you flirting with a pretty girl at some tavern.' What was…? Oh. 

I groaned, facepalming. Damn it. I fell into old habits and… "I wasn't, but I did use my reputation as a flirt to talk to an ally without anyone suspecting what we were talking about." Maker, damn it. The _last_ thing I would ever want to do was hurt Layla. "That's why I cultivated that reputation." Excuses. That was just an excuse. "Where is she? I really don't want this to fester." 

'Exactly why I wanted to confront you. I thought it might have a stupidly simple answer.' Cleon's smile was warm, and I felt… relieved and elated that he really had trusted me. I knew that if the choice came between Layla and me, Cleon would pick Layla every time without exception, but I was just… I was just so glad to have friends. 'She is in your room. Careful. Morrigan was talking to her.' 

"Well, if I start screaming in pain, you know what happened." I smiled when Cleon flashed a grin, a silent laugh. "Are we all still meeting before dinner to discuss information?" 

'Yes, but if it takes you two longer to talk things out, take the time.' Cleon's grin widened. 'I will amuse myself with watching Aiden and Zevran fumble about.' It really was adorable. 

"Then I will see you later, and hopefully in one piece." 

'Luck!' He waved me goodbye and I all but ran down the hall, heading to my room. 

Layla was alone there, sitting on the bed and giving me a little glower as I walked inside. The silence was suffocating, and telling. I was in _so_ much trouble. 

"I'm sorry," I told her instantly. I shut the door behind me and sat on the bed next to her. "I promise, though, that I wasn't flirting with Alfstanna. I know that's what it looked like." There was no reaction. "I cultivated a reputation as a flirt to hide, but I swear, if it hurts you, I will never do anything like that again." There was still no reaction. "So… ah…" Oh, what do I do? She was just sitting there, continuing to be angry, rightfully so, and I just wanted her to smile again. But how do I-? "WAH!" It took me a couple of seconds to process what all happened. One, I went from sitting to lying on the bed. Two, the reason this happened was because Layla suddenly just _moved_ and knocked me down, hovering over me. "Layla, what… ngh…" Three, Layla was kissing my throat, sucking and biting. 

Okay, note to self. A dominant Layla was really, _really_ attractive and holy flames, my mind was in the gutter right now. 

"Mine," she murmured against my skin as she pulled back slightly. "You are mine, right?" Well, yes, but it was kind of hard to think right now? I never expected she would… I was going to blame Morrigan for this because I bet she put the idea into Layla's head. …Maybe that should be 'thank' instead of 'blame'. "I am also yours, yes?" Yes, I was lucky that was the case. "I am the only one you kiss." She was also the only one I was going to let put me in a submissive position like this. "Yes?" She leaned up, looking down on me. Her hair fell over her shoulder, like a curtain shutting out the world. "Nuada?" 

"I'm sorry; I was distracted by how beautiful you are," I whispered. She rolled her eyes, but I shook my head, reaching up to cup her cheek. "I sincerely mean it. I am very thoroughly distracted. May I kiss you?" 

"Later. I wish to talk right now." Okay. "So, all of the statements I said were true, yes?" 

"Yes, they are." 

"Good." She sighed, drooping a little. I shifted my hands to rest on her waist, supporting her. "I know these things. I also remembered how, in Ostagar, you used flirtation to hide talking about serious things. So, when I sat and thought about it, I did realize that's probably what I saw." She remembered that, then… "But, she was really pretty, and I heard some of the patrons talking about what a lovely looking couple you two would make." 

"Alfstanna and I have been friends for a long time, but neither of us ever really felt attracted to each other." I smiled at her. "Besides, while she is very pretty, _you_ are very gorgeous." 

"I am covered in freckles, and I have discovered some scars, and you really have only seen me covered in sweat, dirt, and mud." 

"You are never more beautiful than when you fight for what you believe in, Layla." My smile turned teasing. "I'm Fereldan, and my mother was a raider. Is it so hard to believe that I am attracted to someone who can not only hold their own, but hand me my ass on a silver platter?" 

"Nuada!" She finally laughed, smiling softly. Thank the Maker… "Please, let me continue being serious." I nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Now then." She sighed, shaking her head. Her hair tickled my cheek. "I… want to be more confident." Hmm? "I want to feel more secure. So that when you do something like that, and I _want_ you to if it makes things easier for us, I will not feel as icky. I am certain I always will, of course, but…" 

"Layla." 

"Hush." All right. "But I wish to be someone who can stand at your side, and know that my place there is secure." 

"Is there anything I can do?" I hated seeing her so sad. 

"Yes. Please, continue to love me, even though I do and think silly things." 

"Well, that's the easiest favor I think I ever had to grant." I smiled when she laughed again. "May I kiss you now?" Her answer was to dip her head and kiss me, softly and gently, if a little clumsily. But I loved how she kissed me. She kissed me as if I was somehow fragile, because she had seen into my heart and saw how it was made of cracked and shattered glass. 

…Listen to my thoughts. I had it bad for her. 

She pulled away, smiling slightly, and I loved how she looked after we kissed. She always looked both shy and confident, a little dazed but certain. It fascinated me, because I was always just a little afraid this was just a pleasant dream, that perhaps I was still trapped in the Fade and the Sloth demon had given me a happiness I could never have in reality. But she was certain. This was truth to her, a fact, and I loved how grounded she was. 

I kissed her again, cupping her face. She squeaked when I nipped her bottom lip, whimpered when I pulled away briefly. Her hands tangled in my hair, and she pushed into me, adding a little force to the next kiss. I shifted one of my hands to trace random patterns along her back, up and down her spine. She shivered and gasped, and I took the opportunity to kiss her jaw, and gently bite her ear. 

"Nuada…" she moaned. The sound made my heart race, and my hands slid to her hips. "I…" 

"Do I need to stop?" I asked. My voice was raspy and thick. I really did… "Do you want me to stop?" 

"I…" As she struggled for words, I held perfectly still. As the silence stretched, I brought my hands back to her waist. "No, move them back." She shifted to look directly at me, eyes slightly unfocused. "Nuada…" 

"If you want to stop…" 

"I know I only have to say something." She leaned forward, breath ghosting over my mouth. "But this… feels so nice… please…" 

Oh, Maker, this woman was going to be the death of me. "You're certain?" 

"Yes." Her fingers traced over my ear, absently, and seriously, Layla, you were going to kill me. "Are you?" Hmm? "Do you want to… with me? I know I am…" 

"I have never wanted anyone more." I shifted to close the gap, kissing her desperately, greedily, deeply. She responded in kind, following my lead, and I felt her smirk when her hands slipped under my shirt, and sparked a groan out of me. All of my thoughts focused on her. They focused on her voice, her touch, her pleasure… 

The world could wait for a few hours. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So… ah… here, have heart to heart talks, and Alfstanna who is awesome and… uh… well, anyway, Blackstone irregulars and 'favors for certain interested parties' are part of sidequests available in the game that I have kind of been ignoring, but they work here for the Landsmeet. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Cleon in Denerim 


	96. Chapter 84) Pearly Oars

Chapter 84) Pearly Oars 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Hahren?" I hesitated at approaching. I always got the impression he didn't like me much. But I… "Hahren Paivel?"_

_"Yes, Cleon?" The almost bored tone, and stern look nearly sent me flying away. I wanted, desperately, to have his approval, but I doubted I would ever get it. "Don't you have lessons?"_

_"…I have a question."_

_"That you think I know the answer to."_

_"Zaphikel didn't give me an answer, Keeper Marethari just tutted over me, and-"_

_"I get it." He sighed heavily, and set aside his scroll, facing me fully. "What is it?"_

_"…Is it bad that I enjoy hunting?"_

_"Now, why would that be a bad thing?" He just sounded annoyed now. "Being a hunter is-"_

_"Shemlen." That made him pause. "Is it… is it bad that I like hunting them down when they get too close?" I felt tears prick my eyes. "Is there something wrong with me?"_

_"…No, Cleon." His face softened, and he beckoned me closer. After a moment, I did so. "No, Cleon. So long as you don't let that darker side take complete control of you."_

_"So, should I ignore it it?"_

_"No, Cleon, as too much light is also bad. Think of the burns Merrill and Tamlen get." Oh, right. "Too much darkness and too much light are equally bad."_

_"Why?"_

_"Now that… that is a story." He gestured for me to sit. "It all began with Mythal, Cleon…"_

* * *

I smiled a bit in relief as I saw Nuada and Layla chatting happily about something in the library. I had been a little worried a few days ago, when Layla came back crying, but it seems the two worked through their issues well enough, and were closer than ever. I was tempted to go and tease them, but I had a mission for the day. Leliana had been holed up in her room ever since _whatever_ happened in the market, and that was worrying all of us. Since I actually had some free time, I decided to go be the nosy busybody friend. 

It wasn't like I wasn't almost going stir-crazy. Morrigan was off in her bird-form, gathering information, so I couldn't tease her, and everyone else was just as busy. Right now was just gathering allies and information, and it was _maddening_ how slowly these nobles moved sometimes. I was used to Nuada and Elspeth, who sometimes thought _too_ fast and forgot to explain as they bolted. 

I found Leliana's room and knocked on the door to give her a bit of warning before opening it. She blinked slowly at me, scowling a bit before her expression relaxed for a wry smile. She must have said something in response. Doors were awkward. 

'Oh, hey, the ghost is still alive,' I signed, smiling so she knew I was teasing. I think she laughed a little, shoulders shaking slightly and head tilting down. 'So, we can go around in circles, or get straight to the point.' 

'And what _is_ that point?' she sighed, giving me a bitter smile. 'You did just walk right in. What if I had been changing?' 

'I room with Morrigan, and I have a twin sister. I am rather used to such encounters.' I smiled when she rolled her eyes. 'Though, of course, if you had been offended, I would gladly take whatever punishment.' 

'Good.' Still, she sighed, shoulders lifting with the motion. 'So?' 

'You have been hiding and it is worrying us.' I shut the door behind me, leaning against it. No escape, unless she wanted to try her luck with the window. That had the curtains shut and was likely locked. 'So, what's wrong? Talk to me, Leliana.' 

She held still for a long moment before sighing again, nodding. 'I can't get what happened out of my head. At the market, I mean.' Her signs were slow, her posture drooping. 'Maker, if she had thought Aiden was _anyone_ else, anything else, there would have been an ambush and she would have… she would have…' She shook her head almost violently. 'Her arrogance and Aiden's care kept me safe, that day. If she had been a little less arrogant, then she would have been smarter about all of it.' And if she had been smarter, it might not have gone so easily. But that was the fun of having arrogant opponents. They never considered they could be wrong. 

'What else?' 

'I had been in Lothering for years. _Years_ , Cleon. And she still thought…' Really, how arrogant this woman had been would've been hilarious if it didn't have so many bad things involved. But she was arrogant enough to think Leliana would be easy to break, and she was arrogant enough to not even _consider_ that an elf might be a threat to her. I guess that's why there weren't ambushes or something. Ah, I loved arrogance when the enemy had too much of it. 'She still thought I was plotting against her.' 

'And?' 

'And she didn't trust me. Maybe she never did.' She curled into herself, all small. Fragile. 'She loved me when she could use me, and then when she couldn't, she tried to kill me. Break me.' Talk about an abusive relationship. 'It hurts to realize that.' 

'And?' 

'She is self-serving, cruel.' Her signs were sharper. 'She uses people, then discards them. But that's how she survives in the life she leads.' You know, thinking about it, maybe another reason she was so arrogant was because Leliana had been in Fereldan, and Orlesians didn't think much of Fereldans. 'But what if she is _right_ , Cleon?' Hmm? 'What is we are the same, just as she said?' Now we were getting to what was making Leliana hole up in her room. 'I… I should have stayed in the Chantry.' 

'And what? Died with Lothering?' Perhaps the words were harsh, but I think they were needed to jolt her out of her darker thoughts. 'Besides, given how paranoid she was…' 

'But that isn't the point!' Now she was pacing, almost frantic in her signs and movements. 'I was a different person there!' Ah. There we go. 'I forgot my life as a bard while I was in the cloister. I felt safe, didn't have to watch my back all the time!' She gestured wildly, making it hard to read her signs. 'It _ruined_ her! It will ruin me too!' 

'Leliana.' 

'It's already happened!' Hmm? 'When I killed her, I enjoyed it!' There was the final piece. 'I would have kept stabbing, completely mutilating her, if Aiden hadn't stopped me!' Yes, angry and passionate people did go overboard sometimes. 'Seeing her dead gave me satisfaction!' 

'She did deserve it.' 

'Who cares?! I still shouldn't have rejoiced in her death. That's what she would have done.' She faced me, eyes almost wild with panic. 'I don't want that, Cleon!' Now she was shaking. 'What we're doing, what we've done… part of me loves it.' I almost couldn't read her signs. Was it bad that I had so much practice in reading shaking signs? 'It invigorates me, and this scares me. I feel myself slipping.' 

'No, what you are doing is re-learning the darker side of your nature.' Well, time to emulate Hahren Paivel. I think she needed it. 'Everyone is made of light and darkness. Everyone has good and bad within them.' She simply stared, so I continued signing. 'Look, I like it too. I _like_ hunting, no matter what it is. I always took pleasure in hunting down shemlen who got too close.' Which was why I knew, sort of, what to say. 'The trick is to check yourself. Have others look after you.' Hahren Paivel had promised me he would do so, and then as I got older, I found the checks myself. 'Did you not have _fun_ with it?' 

'I…' Slowly, her shaking eased. 'I did… like it. The intrigue was so dangerous, so chaotic, but so exciting. But it destroyed my life.' 

'But haven't you been using those same skills to save us?' I smiled as she slowly nodded. 'Do you have to be just _one_ thing, Leliana? Why can you not be both a bard and a Chantry sister? None of us are only _one_ thing.' 

'…True…' She tentatively smiled back. 'Here, knowing the freedom of the road and the uncertainty of tomorrow, I feel alive again. There were times, in the Chantry, I wondered if I was not peaceful, but bored. Yet…' She shook her head. 'I should… think on this more. But my head is clearer now.' 

'I thought so.' I smiled smugly, and she rolled her eyes. 'Come on. Let's go outside. Take a couple people along. Maybe Zevran?' 

'No, not him.' She glanced away when I gave her a confused look. 'We are friends, and I did bow out, but…' Oh, she still felt a little jealous since Zevran and Aiden were a couple now. 'Not exactly who I should be around when my head is a mess still.' 

'Then some others.' I wondered who was free. 'But outside. Sunshine is good for you.' 

'Yes, and Aiden?' She gave me a warm, warm smile. 'Thank you. Truly.' 

'Anytime, Leliana. We're friends.' 

'Yes!' 

* * *

It turned out that two very unexpected people were also free. Elspeth and Alistair. I was very hesitant to have them come out with us. But, as Elspeth pointed out, they were _already_ the target of assassins, we had some more just this morning, so they were in danger no matter where they went. She was so nonchalant about it that I was almost worried, but then I remembered. She _had_ spent most of her life as the target of assassins, and _had_ to go about her day as if she was in no danger at all. So, I decided to go for it, under some conditions. Condition one: they had to be wearing armor. Condition two: both had to carry melee weapons. Elspeth had been a little reluctant about that one, but she did agree to at least wear 'Uncle Maric's Blade'. We were definitely going to get her lessons with it. 

Condition three was that we all wore hooded cloaks to better hide our faces. While they agreed easily, I realized something crucial. You could make Alistair _wear_ protection, but that didn't mean much when he went around playing with the children in the market. It was a shame I was fretting so much, as the scene was actually rather fun to watch. Everyone's smiles were so wide, and I knew the laughter must be bright, just by their expressions. 

'Ah, this was exactly what I needed,' Leliana signed. She was smiling softly, and she might have been laughing as some kids climbed up onto Alistair's shoulders. 'He is good with children'. Now that I remembered, hadn't he also played with the children in Zathrian's clan? 'They know he is a good person, and so gravitate towards him.' 

'I think they just know he is a giant kid at heart,' I signed back, grinning. This time, I knew she laughed, her head tilting back with the sound. 'What? He is.' 

'He is. But he is only twenty.' She gave me a look. 'Honestly, all of you are rather young for your roles.' 

'Well, the Creators thought young ones were needed for this task apparently.' 

'I do wish the divine saw smaller pictures. It would make things so much easier on us.' She made a face and my grin widened. 'Now, where is Elspeth?' 

'She is talking to some merchant from Antiva over there.' I pointed to a part of the market not too far away. 'Knows him form there.' 

'I wonder if he is a Crow.' Hmm? 'I have seen many Crows over the years disguise themselves as merchants.' Well, it was a convenient cover. 'Then again, maybe not. Unless someone talks, we will likely not know.' 

'So long as it doesn't result in a knife to the gut, I'm happy.' There was a strange bit of nerviness to her resulting smile, so I changed the subject. 'That is the fourth time his hood has almost fallen off.' 

'Maybe we should have pinned it.' Maybe. 'Oh, wait, I might have some hairpins on me.' Why would she have those? 'They aren't bad makeshift lockpicks.' Really? 

'Teach Zevran. He's deplorable at that.' 

'To be fair, I think he normally seduced his way into his targets.' I could see that. A part of me worried that was what he was doing with Aiden, but it was quiet. Zevran had proven himself a true friend time and again, and the almost _clunky_ way he and Aiden flirted made me think he was doing his best to be as genuine as possible. 

'I am back.' Elspeth walked up, smiling softly as the kids raced about for a game of tag, with Alistair being it. He made sure to keep his steps small and gestures slow so that they could easily escape him. 'I had a question, though,' she signed, focusing on us again. 

'Is it how you just fell in love with Alistair again?' I immediately teased. She actually pouted, and I grinned. 'Sorry, not sorry. What is it?' 

'If you are bored, perhaps we can do a request on the board there.' The… board? 'The Chantry will post little jobs for people to take up. Think of them like bounties.' Oh, I see. 'Regardless, there is one that involves three criminal organization running amok. I thought it might be nice to get some movement in us.' Her hand hovered awkwardly over the blade on her hip. 'And some field practice with this.' Ah. 'Plus, we all have our weapons, and it will help out Denerim.' 

Well… 'That does sound interesting.' I nodded, smiling. 'Yes, why not? Let's pretend to be mercenaries for a bit.' Though, that now led to a problem. 'We have to extract Alistair.' 

'I'll handle that. You and Leliana just find a quick escape route.' Ha! 'Wish me luck!' 

'Luck!' 

* * *

It took a lot of running around to get those bands of criminals to die and _stay_ dead. A lot of them liked pretending to be dead to catch us in the back. Which was nerve-wracking for _me_ since I couldn't hear the bastards. Elspeth thankfully had my back for me, and typically just stayed as close as she could to guard. After all, she wielded a sword for the fights, and I noticed that while she wasn't very _good_ , she honestly wasn't too bad either. I'd never fully trust her life to it, but if she ran out of arrows, it would be a good backup. Which was the point. Also, these criminals were incredibly weak. Not that I expected anything, but seriously, why hadn't the fancy guard people around here taken care of it themselves? 

'So, how good was the pay?' I asked. Apparently, when you were done, you had to turn in something to the Chantry person running the board. Then you could get paid. Or something. I don't know; I let Elspeth handle it. 'I never did really get shemlen money, and I think we collected so much over our travels that I have no proper base.' 

'It's really not that bad,' Alistair explained. I could tell he wanted to go play with the kids again, but Leliana blocked his path. It was just better this way. 'Providing you don't splurge or anything, you could buy food for the family for a good month or two.' I see. 'I think, anyway.' 

'I think so too,' Leliana reassured. She was wearing a bright smile now. 'But it doesn't matter. We did a good thing today.' Which she had needed. An example of how her skills were useful for _good_ things too. 'So… oh, hello, there!' Oh, hey, shemlen in armor walking up. This was going be good or bad. 'Can we help you?' 

'I heard you Wardens were the ones who completed my request,' the man commented. He looked confused by Elspeth's signing, but I waved my hand, and he simply nodded. Good. 'The name is…' I think he actually spelled out the name, to make it easier for Elspeth to trace out the letters for me. K-Y-L-O-N. Kylon. 'I am a sergeant of the city guard, in charge of the lower market.' I see. 'Don't worry. I'm not here to make trouble for you. I'm no fool. If I asked _my_ men to apprehend you, they'd run and cry big sobbing tears in their courtesan's bosoms, and leave me all alone to be skewered.' …I _liked_ this shemlen! 'Don't disturb the peace in the market, and that is well enough for me.' 

'So, is there a reason you are having trouble?' Alistair asked. I gave him a warning look, but Elspeth shook her head. The look in her eyes screamed to let him do this. What was she thinking? Ah, well. I'd learn eventually. I'd just trust her for now. 'Are things that bad in the market district?' 

'The Lower market isn't deemed important by the captain of the guard, even less so with Arl Asshole, sorry, Arl Howe in charge.' I really liked this shemlen. 'So, when I finally get the new men I request…' He jerked a thumb towards one standing guard nearby. 'I get the _delightful_ surprise that they're Lord Such-and-Such's illegitimate, ill-trained, moronic whelps.' 

'And this is not helpful.' 

'Not in the least.' Kylon shook his head. 'Lord keep sending me more of them. It's decent pay, low expectations, a uniform. So I have a legion of bastards to protect the market from pickpockets, stabbings, and whatnot. And that's not even going into Arl Howe's _specially_ picked men.' Just by his expressions, I knew he was being as sarcastic as possible and I loved it. 'They are the worst of the lot.' 

'How?' 

'Yes, Arl Howe's men." HAHAHAHAHAHA! 'Oh, wait, the word, not the name.' Kylon managed a weak smile as Alistair burst into laughter, nearly throwing his hood off by accident as he tossed his head back. 'Now, with the bastards, I just have to worry about gambling, the odd bit of drool, or yelling at them too loudly and hurting their poor feelings and then getting chewed out by their noble fathers.' He sighed, though, crossing his arms. 'But I swear, Arl Howe's men are more criminal than the miscreants we occasionally arrest. Some of them _are_ the criminals we have to arrest.' 

'Well, in that case, do you want some help?' Yes. Yes, let's help this wonderful shemlen who is giving me so much amusement. 

'What? You're serious?' Kylon looked surprised, but then smiled warmly. 'Yes, I can. We have a popular… establishment that is crawling with mercenaries. Called the Pearl.' There… was something more to this, based on how Elspeth started giggling. 'Oh, I don't have to be tactful to avoid the sin of dirtying up a noble lady's ears for once? Perfect!' What was going-? 'So, the Pearl is the most popular brothel in Denerim.' …What was a brothel, again? I felt like I should know that word, but I was just coming up with blanks. I doubted it had anything to do with broth, though. 'Now, if I send my men, one of them might, _Maker forbid_ , get hurt and I have to explain to their noble fathers that being a guard _is_ actually dangerous." I was grinning so widely. This was just great. 

'So, we go there, bust some heads?' 

'Yes, beat down any that act out of line. Send a message.' He got a very serious look on his face. 'Now, I said beat down, not kill. Let me make that really clear.' Okay? Wait, so, for once, we weren't being asked to kill people? That was new. 'Not on fire, or exploded.' What. 'Or Maker knows whatever kind of grisly death you can dream up.' Did we have a reputation? We might have a reputation. 'Ah, sorry.' He suddenly became sheepish. 'Used to giving orders to my boys.' Can we keep this shemlen? Please? 'Just… leave them breathing, please?' Maim and muzzle, not death and destruction. Got it. 

'Not a problem.' Well, this was going to be an interesting day. 

* * *

The whole place smelled of sex and burning incense. I think I remembered what a 'brothel' was now. I had to admit, though. The workers here had very nice taste in underwear. They also just _looked_ very nice. Easy to see why this place was popular. 

'A group of armored folk.' I focused on the woman who approached, Elspeth signing her words for me. 'Well, you don't seem to be mercenaries,' she noted with a shrug of her shoulders. 'Did that scamp Kylon send you to help?' The woman smiled slowly when we nodded. 'Glad that he hasn't forgotten about us.' She pointed towards the side, towards a group of armored people laughing. 'The mercenaries, damn them, are right there.' One of them snagged a girl clad in only underwear by the waist, and she looked disgusted and distressed. 'Blood isn't good for customers, but neither are these louts. I want them gone. Do it however the make you.' She left without another word, chatting with a client. I assumed client. He was fully dressed, after all. 

The four of us just exchanged a look and shrugged before walking right up to them. Might as well get this over with. We stood nearby as we waited for them to take a break in drinking long enough to actually pay attention. 

When they did, they clearly weren't very happy. 'Turn around and walk, stranger,' the apparent leader warned. 'This affair is for White Falcons only.' The girl gave us the most beseeching look. Whatever they were paying, it was definitely not enough for her to put up with their shit. 

'By order of the guard, you are to vacate the premises at once,' Alistair told them seriously. He actually _looked_ rather impressive for once. Normally, he was awkward, dorky, but right now, he was confident. Which was good, because he did have to take center stage here. Leliana couldn't, because she was Orlesian, and I didn't like talking. Elspeth _could_ but I had a feeling they'd say something to make us forget Kylon wanted this to be non-violent. 

'Well, get a look at this guard, boys!' The leader stood, getting in Alistair's face. Well, trying. Alistair was half a head taller. I saw Alistair automatically try to squirm away, try to lessen his presence. It was his natural reaction to authority figures. Run away, and pray they didn't hurt him. 'You're telling us what to do?' But Leliana pressed a reassuring hand into his back, and when Alistair glanced over at Elspeth and me, we made sure to smile. 

'Well, I suppose that _would_ be rude.' Alistair smiled warmly. 'But you're hoping to be hired by nobles, right? Nobles want strong, reliable mercenaries.' He waved at the ones drinking. 'You are not really giving that impression, drinking so much before the sun has set.' 

'…You… do have a point…' Wait, what? Just a single thing and that… what. 'Men, let's clear out.' No, seriously, what was this nonsense? I thought we would have to intimidate them! I thought we would have to almost come to blows, maybe do a bit of fighting to show them how stupid it was to mess with us! But a little bit of persuading actually worked? 'Wouldn't want to get on the nobles' bad sides.' What sort of messed up world was I in where _things were actually easy_?! 

I was still in shock as they just left. That was too easy. I looked at the others, certain I was missing something, but they looked just as startled. Okay. Something was going to give. There was a catch somewhere. There had to be. _Nothing_ was ever easy for us. 

'Looks like you lot handled that easily.' The woman from before returned to us, beaming. 'Thank you,' she told us. 'And tell Kylon I owe him one.' There was a soft smile to her words, and I half-wondered if there was something between them. Maybe not. It could be that she was just glad _someone_ was looking out for her and hers. 'I have to get back to work, but if you ever want our services, I'll give you a discount.' I think Morrigan would literally kill me. 

Still feeling a little uneasy, I led the way to the entrance. It took me a couple of steps to realize Elspeth wasn't falling, and I turned back, wondering what was wrong. 

'I… will catch up,' she signed at my questioning look. She had a bright smile on her face. Well, bright for her, at least. 'I see someone familiar I must talk to.' She pointed to the corner, where a dark-skinned lady wearing clothes that shows a lot of her considerable cleavage, and even more of her very shapely legs, was drinking. 'I will not be long. Promise.' She waved and headed over, the lady laughing and greeting her warmly. Um… who was this? What was going on? 

Shrugging it off, I just decided to leave, trusting Elspeth to not be too long. Leliana and Alistair followed, both as confused as I was. Seriously, this had just become one very weird day. Fen'harel, what sort of trick were you pulling? 

We headed down a few streets, careful to not go too fast or far so that Elspeth could find us easily. To my surprise, Kylon was actually not far away from the Pearl at all, apparently leading a patrol of some of the most bored looking people in armor I had ever seen. 'I was hoping I would find you here,' he greeted warmly. Since Elspeth wasn't here, Leliana signed for me. 'Got word of the Pearl.' Already? 'I don't know how, but you got them to leave with no fuss at all.' This was just _bothering_ me! 'The Pearl's… workers will-' 

'No one gives orders to my men but me!' It took a moment to read that, since there was a significant delay between the reaction and Leliana remembering to translate for me. I just blinked slowly at the group. 'A little lesson in respect is in order!' Oh. Here we go. This was the catch. An ambush. 

'Well, this is going to get messy.' Kylon sighed, shaking his head. 'Well, if you lot want to kill them, feel free.' Well, that was convenient, since they were coming to kill us. 

This was also where I _realized_ something rather startling. These guys were weak. And we weren't. I never… really could gauge how strong we were. It always felt like we were running as fast as we could to just stay in place, constantly learning in order to be stronger, because the foes were stronger. 

But these guys? They weren't stronger. They were mercenaries, who trained to fight talented soldiers. But we weren't _just_ talented soldiers. We were people who had to train, long and hard, to kill things that would tear a shemlen to shreds. We fought against the darkspawn and the taint. We fought against demons. Fen'harel's _teeth_ , we had fought dragons. Alistair had even been part of the group that fought and killed a _high dragon_. 

Why was I only really realizing how 'easy' this was as I flitted from shadow to shadow, striking fast and quick before darting back, keeping my eyes open for any stray movements. If shemlen had one advantage over any of the things we fought, it's that they could survive a great deal of punishment, and what would be fatal for a darkspawn, demon, or dragon wasn't necessarily _fatal_ for a shemlen. 

But shemlen were not mindless like darkspawn, who constantly charged even over their dead to continue the fight. Shemlen were not incorporeal like demons, who barely felt pain until it was all too late. Shemlen were not completely covered in scaled-armor like a dragon. Shemlen flinched back from pain, paniced when their fellows died, and had so many weak joints to exploit. 

Maybe I was realizing it _now_ , instead of earlier with the criminal groups, because I hadn't been expecting a 'real' fight from the criminal groups anyway. And I had just been grateful to be _moving around again_. Training and sex only made your heart pump so much, after all. Still, maybe I should give more credit to them. Just because they had been _weak_ to me… well, they might have been strong to a guard. 

The last one fell to one of Leliana's arrows, and the three of us stretched luxuriously, shaking out limbs. Nothing but superficial injuries on all three of us. To borrow a phrase from Zevran, we were ridiculously awesome, apparently. …Ah, this wasn't good. I was going to get a big head from this. Oh, well. The Creators would throw something stupidly challenging at us soon, I bet. 

'And people just voluntarily attack you lot?' Kylon asked, surveying the corpses as he walked up. Leliana signed for me, fingers shaking slightly as battle-fever ebbed away and aches began setting it. Just because it was _easy_ didn't mean things didn't strain. 'Are they just stupid?' He shook his head, looking like he might be laughing. 'Well, this is a poor foot to start off asking for help on a second thing…' 

'Oh, don't worry, we're always ready for ritual dismemberment!' Alistair laughed. I noticed belatedly that his hood was down, revealing his face, but no one seemed to react, so I hoped things would be all right. 'Though, we do normally save that for Tuesdays.' 

'Well, if a little blood doesn't break the deal…' I think at this point we were just _used_ to blood. 'I've gotten some complaints from the Gnawed Noble Tavern.' If this place was important, we should really figure out 'one' sign for it, instead of the three we were using. Still, it invoked a delightful mental image. I liked pretending it was Howe or Loghain being gnawed on. By a dragon. 'Apparently some mercenaries have invaded.' Invaded. Right. 'Nothing violent has occurred. The mercenaries are probably just disturbing the nobles' conversations, or eavesdropping. One of the two.' Could we hire them? Eavesdropping information was probably good at this point. 'Just drop the deadbeats out of there. The barkeep, Edwina, doesn't mind a little blood. Calls it 'sport'.' Oh. Lovely. 'Do what you will. Anything goes, so long as you don't kill a noble. Because just think of the tragedy.' I liked him! 'Best of luck.' 

'Thank you.' This was the best day I have had in a long while. Weirdness of things being easy aside. 

* * *

We ended up having to duck back into the Pearl to fetch Elspeth. Apparently, she and this woman, a pirate named Isabela, got into a few rounds of some card game known as Wicked Grace. Both of them kept cheating and laughing over it. I think this Isabela taught her some 'Duelist' tricks or something in exchange for the card game? There was something about that in the shaking signs. 

I wondered if this was more of how Elspeth 'would' have been, if she had been allowed to grow up in a single place. Well, nothing for it. Elspeth was Elspeth, and Elspeth was apparently very good at cheating when it came to cards. 

'I do _not_ cheat!' Though, she kept insisting otherwise. 'I simply count cards.' She looked so offended. 'It is a perfectly legitimate strategy!' 

'Of course it is, master of Wicked Grace,' Alistair teased. She scowled, pouting. 'Ah, but here we are, in the tavern." It was a surprisingly nice looking place. "Dealing with the… what was it? Pearly Oars?' 

'Crimson Oars,' I signed. Names of mercenaries were so fascinating, really. 'Who are in the side room over here, apparently.' We only had to mention helping the guard before we were shown the way. 'Ah, that must be them.' They looked rather lively, drinking and dancing. 'Alistair, you're up.' I grinned at his grimace. 'I knew you'd be thrilled.' 

Alistair mimed a punch at my head, before sighing, visibly steeling his nerves. Leliana patted his shoulder, and Elspeth and I gave him smiles. He smiled back, took one more deep breath for courage, and walked forward to meet the mercenaries. 

This time, there was no awkward waiting around. The leader noticed us immediately. 'What are you looking at?' I didn't need to hear to know that the man was booming and being melodramatically boisterous. 'We're the Crimson Oars!' The gestures and expressions told me it already and, even if they didn't, the laughter the others bit back would have filled me in. 

'There have been some… complaints against you,' Alistair informed them. He was fighting a smile. 'We are here on behalf of the guard.' 

'Complaints?' The apparent leader threw back his head in a laugh. 'We have good coin, and we are breaking none of your laws!' I was meeting the most fascinating shemlen today. 'I spit on your complaints!' 

'Your laws?' Alistair tilted his head. 'Are you foreign, then?' 

'We are mercenaries from all over the world! We have won many battles, and tonight, we drink before the next!' 

Alistair then said something in reply, but Elspeth stopped signing to just stare. I glanced at Leliana, curious, and she signed, 'he said _something_ in what I think is Nevarran, but I don't know.' …Since when did Alistair know Nevarran? 

Whenever that was, it made this Crimson Oar Leader laugh again. 'Good effort,' he praised. There was respect in his eyes now. 'A bit clunky.' 

'Sorry,' Alistair laughed. Leliana took up signing, since Elspeth was still staring. 'I am still learning.' He pointed to Elspeth, who rapidly composed herself. 'She is the master.' 

'Oh?' There was more, but Leliana threw up her hands to tell me 'I don't even know'. I frowned as Elspeth replied, apparently perfectly and fluently since the conversation went on for a while. I noticed the other mercenaries relax… and I noticed something else. There were nobles _watching_ us. Watching, studying. I could see by their eyes. They were using this scenario to judge us. 

Regardless, the Oar Leader was soon laughing again, and apparently switched back to Trade Tongue since Leliana started signing again. 'Oars!' he boomed. 'We go to the docks! For ale and wenches!' He bowed with a little flourish to Elspeth. 'My thanks for telling us of that establishment. It's so nice to hear my native tongue again.' 

And they just left too. This time, I doubted there would be an ambush, since more _had_ been involved, but… ah… this was still strange. I was used to a lot more pain involved in accomplishing goals. 

Regardless, we left the tavern easily, with some thankful smiles thrown our way, and we made it maybe two blocks before Elspeth rounded on Alistair, clearly furious. 

'I cannot believe you tried that,' she hissed, eyes flickering in worried anger. She gave Alistair a look that made him laugh and duck behind me. 'Cleon is no shield. I yell at him too.' Though, not for a while. Still, I grinned and twisted away. '…See, he's on my side.' 

'Then I simply must be on Alistair's to balance it out!' Leliana laughed, signs dancing as Alistair hid behind her. 'Still, it was good, yes?' 

'His accent is still atrocious.' 

'But he's learning. After all, he was able to recognize that man's accent enough to place what his native language likely was.' Leliana's smile was warm and bright. 'Apparently is a good student, eager to please.' She added something else, without signs, and Elspeth's face went pink. 'Aw, so cute~' 

'One of these days, Leliana…' Curious as to what Leliana said, I glanced at Alistair, who shook his head with a slightly confused look. 'It's a dialect thing.' I returned my attention to Elspeth, who signed the sentence again just in case I missed something. Thankfully, I had seen it all from the corner of my eye. 'I haven't taught him that yet.' Interesting… 'Oh, Sergeant Kylon.' 

'Hello again,' Kylon greeted. He looked like he was about to burst into song. 'Edwina sends her regards, though she does wish there had been a little more sport to it.' His smile was warm. 'Thank you. You've been a wonderful help.' I noticed, however, that his focus was on Alistair, and _that_ is when a thought occurred to me. 

I wondered… if he asked for help not necessarily because he _needed_ it, but because he wanted to see what Alistair did. He wanted to see if Alistair was willing to get his hands dirty to protect the peace. 

That must be why Elspeth was adamant we do this. We just simultaneously made things a little safer for Denerim, something Loghain hadn't been doing, _and_ gained Alistair some favor without even trying. 

…I wasn't used to things going our way. When was something going to happen? 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Kylon is fantastic because he has one of the most memorable lines in Origins, imo. Also, this is Leliana's 'hardening' quest, though she had already been on the path of it. Had Alistair take up some initiative to showcase character development. Also had a little joke on how easy persuasion makes some quests. Isabela will teach the Duelist specialization if you have sex with her _or_ win a game of Wicked Grace with her. The Crimson Oar Leader being a native to Nevarra is something I made up. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Layla 


	97. Chapter 85) Market

Chapter 85) Market 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_This was the Lowtown market? It looked so… vibrant. People were laughing and dancing. Many were hanging out at this strange place with a strange sign. I crept a little closer to look at it, and saw it was a man hanging upside down. Why?_

_"Whoa, Layla, what are you doing here?" Gentle hands plucked me up from the ground, and I looked up to see Uncle Gamlen. "You're too young for this place," he chided, easily carrying me back up to Hightown. "Revka is going to blame me for this. I just know it."_

_"It's really pretty here," I laughed, hugging him. "Can I come back?"_

_"When you're older, I'll take you, but for now, let's… come up with a story for Revka, okay?"_

_"Okay!"_

* * *

The last time I was in the market, I was just listening to rumors. I had been nervous, and hurting over Jowan. This time, though, I was actually shopping. It was all Leliana's fault. She had decided that the girls in the group did not spend enough time with each other, and so dragged us out. She had even tried to bring Shale, who pointed out that she would stick out like a sore thumb. She asked for shiny gems and shoes, though. I had no idea how serious she was, but I was going for it anyway! 

"Here, try this on," Elspeth whispered, slipping a bracelet onto my wrist. It was one of those pretty vial/locket ones I had been eyeing. "Yes, that fits." 

"But is it not impractical?" I asked back. Though, it was so pretty. "I know we are shopping, but I am a Warden…" 

"You are also the lover of a noble, which means his sister gets to spoil you." Hee~ "Besides, you can hide things inside, like a vial of poison." 

"Ah, I could maybe fit in some lyrium too." A little burst of power could go a long way. 

"See? It is completely practical." Elspeth gave me a warm smile. "Let me buy it for you, then." 

"All right… wait, hold on!" But Elspeth had taken the necklace to a merchant, chatting happily with him in what I thought might be Antivan. I guessed she knew him? 

"You can talk to my brother about it later, Ignacio," I heard her say as she passed some coin. She had switched back to common, but now I was just even more confused. "I fear the wrath of my friends if I completely switch to working while out." A rich and warm laugh was the only reply, but Elspeth did not seem to mind as she returned and put the bracelet back on my wrist. "There we go." 

"There we go," I agreed. I hooked arms with her, just as I used to do with Neria, and we wandered about, looking for our friends. I suppose normally, I could figure out where they were due to some sort of arguing, but there was not any today. 

It was difficult to call Morrigan and Wynne friendly, but it was probably the first time in a long while I had not seen them fighting. I think they came over some sort of understand about the Circles, which had been a huge sticking point. Though, Wynne did harp on Morrigan for being harsh. Then again, Morrigan had actually been a little softer lately. It was nice. 

It was also _hilarious_ to see Morrigan hide _behind Wynne to escape Leliana_. 

"I found a lovely tailor here," Leliana was saying. Her laugh flitted over the market. "A bit of velvet, and gold embroidery…" 

"I would sooner let Alistair dress me!" Morrigan snapped from behind Wynne. Wynne was laughing too, but she did make sure Morrigan was hidden. "I know I told you this." 

"Oh, and shoes! We must get matching shoes. Come on, we're shopping together. Let's have fun!" 

"I want _books_ , not whatever you're going to foist on me!" 

"What about a necklace?" Elspeth asked, easily diffusing the laughing… well, I suppose this _was_ an argument, but it was too much fun. "Here, I picked this up, thinking you might like it." She hooked a gold amulet necklace around Morrigan's neck. "It's made by some smiths from Orzammar, so it will last quite some time." Morrigan looked rather touched by the necklace, and I made a note to tell Cleon. Maybe he would want to buy her things while we were here. "I also found some alcohol for Oghren, some paintings for Sten, some runestones for Alistair…" 

"Plus some bones for Eoin!" I added, laughing. That had been a fun stop. "Oh, look! There are some gems for Shale!" We simply had to buy some. "Anyone have an idea of something Zevran might like?" 

"Leather," Leliana _immediately_ replied. "Good, Antivan leather." There were some leather shops not far away. "Wynne, do you want anything? I'll buy." 

"Well, if you don't mind indulging an old woman…" Wynne began. She was still laughing. "I wouldn't mind a copy of _The Rose of Orlais_." Oh, that was one of Wynne's favorites. Did it get destroyed in the Circle? 

"That… that is a very smutty romance novel." It was… it was _what_? 

"Well, yes." Wynne smiled, completely unrepentant. "I think this may surprise you, but I was young once. I do not recommend trying what they did in Chapter twenty, by the way. It breaks hips." 

"A mental image we certainly all needed," Morrigan deadpanned. It made us all laugh. "Regardless, there is a book stall. Layla?" 

"Yes, let us go!" I agreed, giggling. "Leliana, maybe you can take Elspeth to that tailor?" Elspeth _immediately_ made a face, but nodded when Leliana's eyes lit up. "Let us meet a bit later, okay?" 

This was fun! I liked having fun. 

* * *

When we returned from the Market, it was obvious something had happened in our absence. The whole mood of the estate was quiet and dark. The servants picked up our purchases and all but shoved us into a back room, where the others were. They were tense and silent, clearly waiting for us, and all eyes focused on us as we entered the room. 

"Hope you all enjoyed your market trip, because things just got serious," Alistair deadpanned. Still, he spared a smile for us. "You all did have fun, right?" 

"Yes, we did," I confirmed. I moved to stand between Nuada and Cleon, just automatically taking a place at the 'center' of attention. Leliana slipped into the shadows with Zevran, watching closely. Elspeth urged Wynne to sit by Alistair and stood behind her. Morrigan stood by Sten, perhaps recognizing that this was not a time to curl into Cleon. "But what happened?" I certainly was not having fun _now_. 

"Erlina, one of Anora's handmaidens, showed up here, and asked for help," Nuada answered. Elspeth _immediately_ got a skeptical look. "I know; Anora's trying to play us. But I think she is actually in a lot of danger. Howe has her." …Oh, that did not sound good. 

"How did she even get captured?" 

"According to Erlina, Anora visited Howe to demand answers about what was going on, and was promptly locked up." Nuada sighed, facepalming. I noticed he was careful to make sure only his blind eye was covered. "I don't know if she planned for that, to play on the damsel in distress cliché to gain sympathy, or if she expected Howe to be cowed, and now she's trying to spin things to her advantage." Belatedly, he signed for Cleon, who soon nodded. "Regardless…" 

"…Is it possible she is simply asking for help?" 

"It's Anora." I take it that is a 'no' then. "Anora would fit in well with Orlais." 

"Regardless of the reasons why, we do have to do something," Elspeth murmured. I could see the wheels spinning in their heads. If there was ever a doubt that _this_ is what they spent their whole lives doing… well, I think it was resolved now. "Truthfully, Anora is a greater asset to Loghain and Howe _dead_. Her death can be pinned on one of us, and that becomes one more obstacle that must be overcome in order to get the soldiers needed to combat the Blight." 

"We Wardens might be able to get away with it, but Eamon and Alistair wouldn't," Aiden replied, catching the thread. My head was spinning a little. "Yes, it is not a risk we can afford. Not when the Archdemon is nipping at our heels." 

"And why not call on these guards?" Sten asked. He looked exasperated, and I certainly did not blame him. "Is that not their job?" 

"Howe is a coward who took Highever in ambush, and you attacks defenseless elves for fear of 'riots'. The first sign of trouble, Anora is killed, and he makes up whatever lie he wants. And no matter how stupid of one it is, it will have to be actively disproven." Sten nodded reluctantly. I had a feeling he would be asking about this later. "So, we need a small group to head in. I'll be going." The whole room froze. "I know the estate and, more importantly, I know a servants' entrance. I used it last time." That… was right… he _had_ been in there before. Cleon and I had waited for him. It felt so long ago. 

"I'll be heading in as well," Nuada added. The room froze again, somehow. "Out of all of us, Anora only knows Elspeth and me, meaning that she'll be more amiable if one of us goes. But Elspeth has work out here." Elspeth nodded to confirm it. Unlike the rest of us, she looked completely unsurprised. "Besides, no offense to anyone here, but after what Howe has done to Highever and the Alienage, you are _not_ denying Aiden and me the chance to screw him over." I could see in his eyes, too, that he hoped to actually _kill_ Howe. He just… Anora was the priority, and he was sane enough to recognize it. "Small group means two others." 

"Then let me come along," Wynne volunteered. She laughed off the incredulous looks. "Oh, no one is going to expect a little old lady to be a threat, so I would be a good distraction. It is also possible Queen Anora is injured." Yes, but if that was the case- "It would be better for Layla to be a back-up. There are still threats outside the walls, and she is more useful in a direct fight." That… "So, let me take up one of the slots." 

"And I'll take the last one," Leliana declared. Her eyes were fierce and certain. "I was held captive there once." She was? When was this?! "Though the priority is Anora, there is an extensive dungeon underneath. I know the way in. If he has the gall to hold a queen prisoner, then perhaps there are some other important guests in the cells. Guests you can win." A-ah… I did not like this. I did not like this at all. I had… so many bad feelings about this. 

But none of that mattered. The four were certain, and though there was more debating, it was clear they would not be dissuaded. We had no choice but to let them go. 

Leliana and Wynne were the first to leave, too fast for me to catch them. When Nuada tried to follow them, I caught him by the arm. I could not find the words to properly convey how, and why, I was worried, but I think he got it anyway. He kissed my forehead, and then my cheek. In those kisses, I heard the unsaid words: 'I will be fine. We will both be fine. Trust us.' Then he was gone. 

Aiden ruffled my hair as he passed, and in his gentle eyes, I saw similar reassurances. 'It will be okay. Trust us.' But I also saw the words: 'You and Cleon are in charge', and they just made me want to vomit. It was a warning. _If_ something went wrong, Cleon and I would have to continue, and we would have to leave them behind. But before I could protest, he was gone too. 

I ran to a nearby window, one with a view of the courtyard, and I watched them all leave. But all too soon, they were out of my sight, and I could only wait and pray. 

I hoped that this time, my prayers would be answered. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: So, I think the group has had a long enough break; let's get the plot rolling again. I did not have Erlina feature, mostly to save on conversation people. She's resting in a guest room during all of this. The market scene has some references to party conversations, and to the gifts you can give companions. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Rescue the Queen with Aiden 


	98. Chapter 86) Captured Queen

Chapter 86) Captured Queen 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_The palace district was especially crowded today. I think Queen Anora was giving a speech or something. I didn't really pay attention, just focused on making my way through the crowd to deliver my messages._

_Her voice was crisp and clear even over the crowd, but I ignored it. I was too used to pretty words. Queen Anora had a habit of saying a lot without really saying anything at all. I… didn't want to listen to such things anymore._

_Maybe it was being too harsh. But it was hard to hide my feelings._

* * *

Erlina actually snagged us some guard armor and servant clothes for us to use as disguises. I don't know how, and I didn't want to know how, especially since Lord Nuada was the only one of us four who wasn't surprised. In fact, he fell into the pretended role easily, though he wore an eyepatch to hide his blind eye. Wynne, Leliana, and I took up servant clothes, and the story was that Lord Nuada was showing the new servants around. I couldn't believe how easily he got us in and around to that servants' entrance. 

I wanted to ask about it, but I found it hard. I could remember, easily, what happened last time we were here. As we approached the servants' entrance, I found myself looking around, and I paused a little when I realized exactly were we were. I knew this place. This was where Cleon and Layla waited for us, back then. They had dealt with the guards, given us a place to escape. The vines and metal fencing we used to climb up were still there, and I could see the bits of blood on the wall. No one had thought to look there to clean, and the metal kept the rain off it. 

Up there, Layla had healed Shianni, tending to her gently. Cleon had bandaged my arm, not judging despite the fact that I had been absolutely covered in blood. That's where all this started. 

Happy chatting caught my ear, and I focused on looking down, curling inward to look meek. It was harder than it used to be, and I grit my teeth more. But, at the same time, I was calmer as we walked inside, Lord Nuada easily getting us passage inside. 

As we walked around inside, I subtly glanced around, taking note of everything. They repainted the place, replaced the floor. I guess the blood was too much to clean. Or the corpses. Every time I blinked, I saw red and more red. Every blink brought back memories of corpses. People that I killed in a too cold rage. 

Wynne knew something was wrong and subtly caught my eye, smiling softly. I knew my returning smile was strained, but it didn't bother her. She patted me on the shoulder, and it did wonders to soothe me. 

At some point, though, my feet took me a different direction than the others. It took me a second to remember why. That different direction was, really, the path I had taken back then. I only realized when I came upon the room where Nola had been killed. Where the guards had killed her for being 'too loud', and had talked about having sex with her still warm corpse. 

If I closed my eyes, I could still hear her laughing and gossiping after a day's hard work. I could still remember all the things she had wanted. 

I kept on walking, remembering how angry I had been. Remembering how the whole place bled red, and how there had been so much that the color now just made me sick. I saw replaced doors, and remembered how I had burst through and killed anyone and anything in my path. 

My feet stopped at the end, as I came upon a door that had not been replaced. I opened it slowly, and stepped inside. The rugs were different. The floorboards were changed. But I knew it was the room. This was the room where Shianni had been raped, repeatedly. This was where I had killed Vaughan. 

I stood in the center, and closed my eyes, remembering that day. I remembered that rage. I remembered the sickening glee of killing Vaughan. I remembered it all. It… hurt. It still hurt. Even now, I felt ill. Even now, when I saw all the red, I could only pray I could keep control. 

But that was okay. Because I was stronger now than I was then. I am far calmer than I had been back then, regardless of what I had thought. I had not truly been calm then. Now, I knew how to stay calm even while angry. Now, thanks to Oghren, I knew how to use my anger fully as I fought. I was not afraid of losing my temper. I was not afraid. 

What happened in this room would not happen again. I was stronger now. The person I am now… yes, the person I am now was more than strong enough. With my friends, I was more than strong enough. 

"Aiden?" I heard Lord Nuada call softly. He smiled when I turned to face him. "You okay?" he asked. He didn't even look surprised that I had walked away. 

So, I smiled back. "Yes, I'm fine," I reassured. It was the truth. "I just needed to face this bit of my past." 

"I understand." I thought he might. I wondered if he felt like this, back at Highever. I wondered if Layla had felt this way at the Tower, or Cleon when we were with the Dalish. "Ready?" 

"Always." 

* * *

We reunited with the others easily, Wynne apparently faking some sort of… something to buy the time Lord Nuada needed to get me. Something about gout and feet? I had no idea. It was convincing enough, and Wynne seemed to have a lot of fun making the guards run this way and that while Leliana fussed over her. 

"So, gout is… what exactly?" I asked softly as we continued hunting for the room Erlina told us Anora was here. We… probably should have brought her with us, but _nooo_ , we just _had_ to be extra suspicious. "Some sort of ailment?" 

"It's a kind of arthritis, Aiden," Wynne answered with a little laugh. She was pretending to limp, and I was her helpful crutch. "It can cause a sudden burning pain, stiffness, and swelling in joints. Often, it affects the big toe." She laughed again. "Of course, it's more common in men, but I doubt these boys know that." I… see… "It's helpful being old." 

"If you say so." We turned a corner, and came on… a door that had magic on it. "Well, it looks like Howe has a mage with him." I wonder how _that_ got justified. 

"Of course he does," Lord Nuada sighed, removing the helmet temporarily. He hovered a hand over the glowing barrier. "Wynne?" He glanced back, but Wynne only shook her head. This wasn't something that could be taken down easily, then. "Of course." He sighed again and threw the helmet at the barrier. It flashed and actually bounced the helmet back. Leliana caught it easily. "Well, this sucks." Yes. Yes, it did. "Anora? You in there?" 

"Nuada!" Yep, that was the queen. I could recognize her voice, even if it was a little muffled. "Thank the Maker!" she breathed, sounding relieved. "I'd greet you properly, but I'm afraid there's been a little setback." 

"Oh, is that so? I thought you planned the giant, glowing barrier that I swear reminds me of something I saw in the Tower." Lord Nuada also signed, 'I knew she was in less control than she claimed' and I had to fight back a snicker at that. 

"That is definitely you. I know of no other who can joke so easily." Now she sounded a little irritated. "But yes, it seems my 'host' was not content in leaving me under heavy guard." 

"Come now, Anora. You'd cry if I wasn't able to joke, and I dare not gain the ire of the poets for marring your face with tears." There was _definitely_ a small laugh from behind the door. "So, we do have a mage here, but she says that it can't be taken down easily." 

"No, I doubt it would. I think it's blood magic." Oh, this just got even _better_. "But I think because of it, it would be tied to the mage's life." I glanced at Wynne, who nodded. Okay, that checked out. "He's probably near Howe." Oh? "So, you'll probably need to find Howe first." Did... did we just get a good excuse to go hunt down, and kill, Howe? "Please be careful. Things have been… hectic." 

"Anora, after everything I've seen, Howe ranks very low of the list of things that scare me." 

"I _meant_ your temper." 

"Me losing my temper is _also_ very low on the list of things that worry me." There was a very telling silence, and I was reminded of the confrontation with Loghain. He, too, had come into that meeting expecting the people he had met at Ostagar. Anora, clearly, had been expecting someone based on his descriptions, and her own memories of Lord Nuada. But he was different. _We_ were different. And we literally just got the perfect excuse to go after Howe directly. 

This was the best day. This was, officially, the best day ever. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: And this is why Aiden tags along. Just as Layla, Nuada, and Cleon got to set their pasts to rest, so does Aiden, here in the Estate. Just an acknowledgement of how far Aiden's come since then. Also, officially meeting Anora, and a slight highlight on her similarities to Loghain. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Dungeons with Nuada 


	99. Chapter 87) Oathbreaker

Chapter 87) Oathbreaker 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_Laughter caught my attention. It was bright, cheerful laughter, a kind I had never really heard before. Confused, I wandered to the… it was called the 'Main Hall', I think? I didn't really know. I had only been here at Highever Castle for two days, and it was just as boring as anywhere else we had lived over the years._

_Still, I was surprised to see Father was the source of the too happy laughing, and I paused awkwardly in the doorway as he hugged a stranger, talking animatedly, as if he were a child. The stranger was laughing just as much and just as warmly, teasing Father with an ease I had never seen._

_"Oh, Nuada!" Father turned my way, face bright with a smile as he beckoned me forward. "Good timing," he said as I approached. "Rendon, do you remember Nuada?"_

_"I remember a tiny thing with a fascinating for pulling hair," the stranger teased. He crouched down to look me in the face. "Goodness, he's grown. Looks like you."_

_"That's what so many say, but I see Eleanor in him more than me." Father was still laughing. "Nuada, this is Rendon Howe, my best friend." Oh, that's why Father was acting weird then. "He's the Arl of Amaranthine."_

_"Oh, don't tell him that. What if he gets fussy?" Still, he offered his hand, and I realized he was asking for a handshake. He was treating me with the same respect adults treated each other, not the one adults gave little kids. "It's good to see you again, Nuada, but I'm sure you were too little to remember me."_

_"I guess I need to make more memories," I quipped. It sparked laughter out of them both, and I tentatively took his hand. It was warm, calloused, and his grip was firm, not trying to showcase any strength or anything. "But it's very nice to see you again, Uncle Rendon."_

* * *

The dungeons were… they were far cleaner than I would have expected. That wasn't something I was glad to see, though. That meant there were people here frequently, people Howe actually cared about. _He_ came down here often, and I had a sinking suspicion for what he did when I saw the small blood droplets. 

"This place is cleaner than I remember," Leliana murmured. Confused, I turned to her. "I was… captured here. It's a long story, and I'll tell it when we're _not_ here." She shook her head. "I do remember where one of the torture rooms is, though. My friend, Tug, died in it." 

"You okay with leading us to it?" I asked her, glancing at Aiden. He simply nodded, with an amused glint in his eyes. He was going to make me take lead here. We both had a reason to see Howe dead, personal ones, but Howe was a personal betrayal. 

"Yes." Her eyes were certain. "I would be honored if my memories can help save even one person." 

"Then lead on." 

She nodded once, firmly, and set off, head held high. The further in we got, the worse everything got. You could see mud and dust streaking the floor, blood that was too ingrained in the stone to be removed. You could hear echoing sobs and whimpers. You could smell blood, sweat, and… other things that hinted how clean things really were. 

In silence, we walked, and it did not take long at all for us to reach the room Leliana remembered. Once there, I wasn't sure if I wanted to sigh or scream. We had a torture rack, and there was a person strapped on it. It was a person I _knew_ to make things even better. 

"Oswyn, what in flames did you get yourself into?" I asked, forcing myself to try and act amused. It was hard. While it didn't look like he had been stretched enough to dislocate, it was clear that he was 'almost' at that point. The ropes on the bottom were more taut than the ones on top, possibly due to a construction mistake. "Oswyn, it's me, Nuada." I crept a little closer as he blinked blearily at me. I tried not to wince when I realized someone had used the fact that he was confined to inflict other types of torture. All of the nails of his left hand and both feet had been removed, and there was an indication that his right hand was being prepped for the same treatment. Badly healed burn injuries were infected. Careful, almost surgical, cuts made me incredibly worried about his insides. "Can you hear me?" 

"Nuada?" he finally croaked. I smiled in reply. "Your eyes…? Oh, never mind. Please, for the love of the Maker, get me off this thing!" …Oswyn was actually crying. I had known him for years, ever since the first Landsmeet I attended, and I had _never_ seen him cry. "Please!" 

"We're working on it." I could see Leliana already doing her best to try and undo it. "It has to be slow." I was assuming, at least. I didn't have much knowledge of torture devices, and I just wanted to cut the damn ropes and chains, but Leliana worked on slowly releasing, and I trusted her to know what she was doing. 

"Father sure took his time. Did he think this would be a good lesson?" 

"One, I have no idea what you're talking about. Two, I highly doubt your father would knowingly let you spend two seconds down here." Sighard was a stern, yet kind father. "Leliana's about to release you." 

"Okay." Still, he groaned and whimpered as he was finally released from the thing. I undid bindings as fast as I could. "Maker, I can't feel my legs." I did not like how Wynne was frowning over them either. "Ugh… Father, I love you, but can you stop being blind to the snakes you've allied with?" 

"I take it he's with Loghain?" 

"He's with _Anora_ , which means dealing with Loghain and Howe, but he's been growing more disillusioned by the day, so he might be switching allegiances." That would be nice. Dragon's Peak was a powerful bannorn. "Ugh…" 

"Oswyn, I'm going to pick you up and get you off this stupid thing, okay? You are not allowed to move." Carefully, I did that, setting him on the floor. Even with that care, though, he whimpered again. Maker… "Seriously, Oswyn, what sort of idiocy did you get caught up in? Did you accept another drink from a stranger? Last time, that led you getting stuck on the palace roof." 

"And this time, it got me here. I am never drinking again." He shuddered, and Wynne sat next to him, tending to his injuries. "A childhood friend of mine was at Ostagar. He told me what happened, and then just disappeared. I went looking for him…" He glanced up, and I did as well. I felt the distinct urge to be ill when I saw the corpse hanging from up there. "I can't believe Teyrn Cousland was friends with this madman." 

"I can't either." The person who always made Father laugh the hardest was capable of things like this? The person who always had an ear for whatever story I felt like telling was such a monster? "Are there others?" 

"Many." He managed to move his arm and pointed down the way. "Far too many." In my opinion, one was already too many. 

"I'm heading ahead." I stood up, rolling my shoulders. "There's a good chance I at least know _of_ the people in these cells." The words were bitter. "Oswyn?" 

"If you say these people are good, then I'm good." Oswyn… "Just don't leave me down here." 

"We won't." I waved him goodbye and headed down the hall, hunting for another door. I found one all but hidden within the wall. It was locked, but I kicked it open fairly easily, and walked inside. It was dark, and cold. I honestly wondered if this was the Void. 

"Maker, have mercy on Your faithful servant." Someone was praying. "Grant me a place at Your side." Someone was praying to die. "Grant me the cleansing flames." I… knew this voice too, but I couldn't believe it was Irminric even when I was _at_ the cell. "Andraste, bride of the Maker, please, have mercy on me." 

"What's a big, brave knight lieutenant of the Order doing here?" I gently teased. His eyes tried to focus on me, but they couldn't. "Hey…" 

"Alfstanna?" He reached out blindly, flailing about. "Is that you, little sister?" 

"I'm flattered, Irminric, but we might want to keep that from Alfstanna." I knelt down, and took his hand. "It's Nuada. I know; I look different." 

"Are you real?" 

"Yes, I'm real. I'm here." Was this lyrium withdrawal? I had heard it was bad, but seeing it was… Maker, I had never even thought about it. This was the result when they tried to leave. "I'm here." 

"Forgive me, I failed." His hand tightened on mine. "Maker, forgive me, I failed in my duties, and there's no telling what he's done…" 

"Who?" 

"The mage, the blood mage." His voice wavered, and I thought he was close to tears. I saw no signs of physical torture, but that didn't matter. Lyrium withdrawal appeared more than enough. "Near Redcliffe." Redcliffe…? "I cornered him… almost had him…" Wait, was this about Jowan? "The teyrn's men ambushed me. They had been following, and then they took him from me, dragged me here." Well, we _definitely_ had the Chantry's support. This was testimony. 

"If his name was Jowan, then fear not. He's dead." I remembered his death. I remember how Layla had nightmares about it, among the dreams of darskpawn. "He died to save a child." 

"Is that so?" He smiled so warmly that he started crying. "Nuada, help me." 

"I'll get you out of your cell." 

"No, don't." What? "Others. There are others. Get them instead. I am fine, here. But tell Alfstanna. Tell her I'm sorry." He let go of my hand and took off his ring. I recognized it as his signet ring, something he had worn when he was heir. He had tried to give it to Alfstanna, but she had refused it, stating that it would help him remember who his family was. "Give her this." He pressed it into my palm. "Tell her to pray." 

"I'll tell her." I was going to tell her to get her brother the _fuck_ out of here! 

"Good…" He scooted away, into the darkness, and I could only hold onto the ring tightly. 

This was madness. My father was friends with a person who… did all of this? 

* * *

Aiden carried Oswyn as we continued forward. We couldn't go backwards, but we couldn't leave him. We couldn't send him back. His legs… they weren't working. Wynne said that the muscles had been stretched for so long, and so they lost their ability to contract. It _might_ be possible for healers to restore that, but Wynne would need another healer's help. It was a job for five or six, not one. 

That was bad enough. But as we got deeper in, I realized something horrific. The dungeons were filled. Every single cell was packed with people. Maker's blood, I could see _children_! This was disgusting. This was _beyond_ disgusting! 

"Hang on," I whispered, kneeling down and reaching through the bars of one cell to a little girl who kept shaking and whimpering. She seized my hand in an instance, clinging desperately. "Leliana will get you out, and sing you pretty songs. Wynne will check over you health. She's a mage, but do not be afraid. She will not harm you. Aiden and I will keep you all safe." I gently tightened my grip on her hand as she stared at me, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't be older than five. 

Movement caught my eye, and I turned to see Leliana working furiously in picking the lock. Her hands were steady, but her eyes were _blazing_. I nudged her, and pointed to the little girl when she glanced over. Anger had its place, but anger was just going to scare the prisoners. She nodded, and worked on calming down, slowing her movements just slightly so that she had an extra few seconds. 

The door swung open, and I waited for the girl to let go before moving to pick her up and carry her over to Wynne. Wynne was in full grandmother mode, her smile warm and kind as she fussed over the children, and encouraged the adults. She dried their tears, and tended to every little scrape and bruise. The adults were more willing to endure their pain, and babbled to Aiden about anything and everything they had heard or witnessed while down here. 

As Leliana moved to the next cell, I tapped her on the shoulder and signed that I would be going on ahead, just a bit, to the other set of cells down here. She nodded, and gave me a reassuring smile before she went back to work and I left. I paused at the door and made sure Wynne and Aiden also knew I was leaving. Aiden waved goodbye. Wynne gave me a reassuring smile, but I saw the concern in her eyes, so I made sure to smile back before heading down the hall. 

It was hard walking through here, though. By this point, there hadn't even been an attempt to clean the blood and it dripped down. I could see corpses dangling from the ceiling. I could see the dead still attached to torture devices. A few had their hands crushed. A few where tied to a wheel dangling over metal spikes. 

Distracted by the dead, I opened a door and entered without checking who was inside. It got me face to face with a guard, but that didn't last long, since they're apparently been in front of someone in a cell. Wow, the one guard that we'd encountered in the entire place, and I just saw someone use the bars of their own cell as a lever to snap their neck. 

"I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger," I heard the person say as he casually stole keys and armor off the corpse. "I have been waiting days for the opportunity." But, didn't I know this voice? 

"I have a feeling we are not quite strangers, good sir," I replied, stepping a little closer. They looked up and I smiled. "Riordan. It's Nuada." 

"…What did you do to your eyes?" I had a feeling that was something I would hear for quite some time. "What are you doing _here_?" 

"Clearly, I am wandering about creating distractions for senior Wardens." My smile was warm, but I couldn't relax. I knew Riordan. He was a friend of Uncle Duncan, senior Warden of Jadar. He counted himself from Highever, though, as he had been born there. But even though I knew him, had adored listening to his stories in the past, I just… it was hard to trust. "But what are you doing here? Don't tell me Howe caught you." 

"To my shame, he did." He sighed, shaking his head. "The borders are closed, but the Wardens do still worry. By now, of course, I'm certain they have written Fereldan off due to Loghain's paranoia, but I was sent when we received no word from King Cailan as to the outcome of Ostagar." 

"Everyone died." 

"Yes, I heard that here." His eyes were sad. "I sent word back. I could almost hear the screams from here. We expect death, of course, but for it to be a massacre, and _we_ were being blamed… well, I suppose history repeats itself." 

"I suppose." Still, there was a senior Warden. We could finally get some damn answers. "If you head back down the hall, and turn left at the first chance, you'll find my companions. Aiden is another Warden, leader of our little group, and Wynne is a healer." 

"Good, I am in need of a checkup." Riordan smiled warmly, clasping my shoulder. "It is good to see you, Nuada. I am relieved that not all died at Ostagar." 

"Luck." I waved him goodbye and looked around the room. This was one of the 'high security' cells, set alone in a block, and guarding the way into the rest of the dungeons. With a shrug, I decided to head further in. It was surprisingly clean in that next part, so I guess there were fewer prisoners here. I smelled no blood and I heard nothing except my footsteps. Maybe I should head back now and… 

"Well, well. Bryce's little boy, all grown up, and still trying to fit into daddy's armor." I froze as Howe stepped around the corner. I hadn't expected to run into him so soon. "I never thought you'd be fool enough to turn up here," he commented lightly. "But, then again, I never thought you'd live either." 

"…Why?" I had planned on yelling. I had planned on just attacking him, hacking away until he begged for mercy. But here I was, just staring, feeling like I was a child again. I felt like I was a child, staring at a stranger as I waited for Father to introduce us. But Father was dead. "Father was…" 

"A clumsy appeal, nowhere near your usual eloquence." I wasn't trying to appeal. I just… "He was a traitor to me, and a coward to his nation!" What…? "Trips to Orlais, gifts from old enemies, all while I sank into obscurity!" 

"We went at Uncle Maric's request." 

"And your family squandered glory that was rightfully mine!" What glory was he talking about? "How suitable that their deaths should raise me to the ear of a king." 

"That's… it? That's all?" That was worth so many lives to him? 

"You'd never understand." No, I didn't. "If you think you can take this from me, that I will allow it, you are very much mistaken." He shook his head, laughing at a joke I just could not understand. "Your family is done. You might have Highever, but it will be reclaimed. It was always supposed to be mine." But… "Your parents died on their knees. Your brother will fall to an assassin's blade; your sister will be turned into a pawn and serve whatever man ends up owning her. And you, fool boy, will end your days under a rock in the Deep Roads." 

I couldn't… even after all of this, I couldn't believe that he would talk of Fergus and Elspeth this way. I couldn't believe any of this. "You don't…" 

"I mean every word, and I am telling more truths now than I have in the past five years." That… "Even the Wardens are gone. You're the last of nothing. You've lost. Give it up." 

"…I guess my Uncle Rendon died a long time ago." I… felt like crying. All of this anger, all of this hatred, and I just wanted to sob. "Did he ever really exist? Was it just a happy illusion?" Memories I didn't want came bubbling up. "Did I dream of the uncle who taught me how to skip rocks across the lake? Did I dream of the uncle who would buy me history books because my eyes lit up? Did I imagine the times where he would take me up to the ramparts of Amaranthine and tell me all about the history of the city?" 

"Shut up and give up." 

"I guess it was." I took a deep breath, and did what I always did when I was hurt. I locked away my heart, threw away the memories, and settled my resolve. I was a Cousland. I would do my duty. "But you are still lying, to yourself most of all, for I am not the last of anything, much less the last of nothing." I drew my blade and checked the fastenings on my shield. "I am your judge, your jury, and your executioner. I have not lost yet, and I never will." 

"…There it is…" His words were a growl as he palmed his weapons. "That damned light in the eye that marked every Cousland success that held me back." 

"Father taught me well." 

"Yes, I suppose he would be proud. I, however, want you dead more than ever." 

I lunged first, swinging down. He caught the blades and tried to kick me on my right side, to take advantage of my blind spot. But I blocked it easily, angling my shield, and kicked him in the gut. As he stumbled back, I began to recite the Oathbreaker Call. 

"The accused stands before us, and we have judged him to find him wanting. My father, in his kindness, saved you at White River, judged you as a worthy friend, but you have betrayed that action a thousand times over." 

He snarled and charged, striking twice. When I blocked both, he landed a punch at my head to knock me back. His next strike caught my throat, but all it did was make me bleed. I didn't hurt. Rather, I already hurt, so what was a little more? 

"By his thoughts, he has betrayed those he swore to serve. For he ambushed his lord, the Teyrn of Highever, in the night, and massacred all within the castle." 

He aimed again for my neck, striking twice to try and cut my head off. I waited for it to come, waited for the blades to catch my throat, and struck, catching him deep across the chest. His armor was the only thing that kept him from being cut in half. 

"By his deeds, he has violated those he swore to protect. For his heavy taxation turns people out in the streets to starve and he allows his guards to murder and rape as they please." 

His armor clattered to the ground and he stumbled back, growling under his breath. I shifted, holding firm, and feeling power pulse through me. A dragon's strength was my own, and as I bled, I took more of it as my own. My good eye burned as he glared at me. This next exchange… would be the last. 

"By his words, he has proven himself a monster in human guise. For he brutalized the elves of the Alienage and tortured those who dare to speak out." 

He lunged forward with a bellow, charging with his weapons aimed for my face and neck, the only parts of me that were not armored. But he no longer had the same advantage, and I struck him down, kicking out his knees for good measure. It really wasn't an unexpected outcome. He was older, and had not trained seriously in years. I had all the advantages. 

"Andraste, in Her Mercy, might forgive you, but we, by our laws, shall not. You shall stand before Her, in Her radiance, and it is our hope you will be banished to the lightless Void, where you shall remain forever without the peace of the Maker." 

He tried to stand, but I took his own sword and stabbed down, pinning his hand to the floor, leaving him on his knees. He growled and spat something, but I didn't hear them. I just held the blade above my head, aiming for his neck. 

"Rendon Howe, Former Arl of Amaranthine, Usurper of Highever, Butcher of Denerim, I name you 'Oathbreaker'!" 

I swung down, but paused just before I cut off his head. He stared at me, startled. I couldn't explain it. I just… had to stop. I couldn't… every time I tried to get my arm to move, I just remembered everything. They were lies to him. He'd likely had been plotting something like this for years upon years. But to me, they were real. To me, those memories had been part of the reason why I grew to love Fereldan, and why it finally became 'home'. 

But I could not let him live. I was a Cousland, and a Cousland never forwent their duty. So, instead I calmly, slowly, slit his throat, making sure to actually hit the important veins. 

"I suppose it is fitting that as your life bleeds out from you, the last thing you'll see is a Cousland looking down on you." 

He tried to say something. But, he couldn't. So, he glared instead, with all the hatred of the world. He died with that look on his face. With his last breath, he hated me. That… that was… 

Footsteps caught my ear, and I looked up to see Aiden walking towards me. His eyes were calm, despite the mess. There was no judgment in his face, and I was glad for that. 

"The mage tried to attack us," he said instead. "I worried you had been ambushed." I simply shrugged. "Are you ready to return?" 

I looked down at the corpse, just staring. "Hey, Aiden?" I began instead of answering. "How did you feel when you killed Vaughan?" 

"Gleeful." He came to stand beside me, one wet footstep at a time. "How do you feel?" 

"I feel pissed off." _This_ was the person who betrayed us. _This_ was the person who killed Father. _This_ was the person who tried to destroy my family, and Highever. "I also feel like sobbing." _This_ … was the person who was my uncle. _This_ was the person I had loved and adored as an uncle, and had loved visiting. "But, mostly, I feel a little empty." 

"I suppose you had your hatred sustaining you more than you expected." I suppose that was true. I had focused on duty, and there had been so much going on, but now I felt like I was missing a piece of me. "Do you want to mangle the body or something?" 

"I cannot believe I just heard you say that." 

"Come on; if anyone deserves it, it's him." 

"No, but if you want to, I'm not going to stop you." 

"I think I'll cut off his head and hide it somewhere down here." 

"There's a cell not far from here, easy to miss." 

"Perfect." 

* * *

Aiden did, in fact, do exactly as he said, and it was just so… it was so morbid that I couldn't help but laugh and laugh. He looked so proud of himself too, like a kid playing a prank. I think Howe brought out the worse in Aiden and in me. It would be something to watch out for, if we ever met someone who made us so angry and hateful again. 

But, of course, now we had complications. We literally had a dungeon full of people who needed to escape, on _top_ of Anora. If we were caught… 

"Looks like the barrier is down," Aiden noted. He and I had decided to head up to get Anora, while Leliana and Wynne decided to stay below with the others. Leliana knew of a way to sneak out from there. The problem was making sure no guards would find all of us. "You deal. I'll guard." 

"Yeah, that sounds good," I sighed. I was… rather hesitant. So much had happened over the past… however long it had been. While I could logically believe Anora would not turn, if only for the most pragmatic of reasons, it was much harder to emotionally believe that. I… could not trust those of my past as I did before. I simply couldn't. Those I had fought with I could trust with my _world_ , but… "But soft, what light through younger window breaks?" 

"Yes, hello, Nuada, thank you ever so much for quoting from my least favorite play," Anora deadpanned immediately, her voice muffled by the door. Still I could hear the amusement in her voice. "One moment, please." There were some thumps from the door before it opened to reveal… um… "What did you do to your eyes?" Yes, I was _definitely_ going to be hearing that question for a very long while. 

"I caught a sword to the face. Why are you in armor?" It was poor armor too. Why were there boob cups? That was just going to direct a chest attack straight into the heart. 

"Because there are two types of people in this house, and neither of their actions is best for me." Those loyal to Howe would kill her. Those loyal to her will insist she go back to the palace. "I like living, thank you." It was hard to imagine Loghain killing Anora. But, then again, it was hard to trust any of my memories, especially now. "Nuada?" 

"Yes?" 

"You look like you want to cry." I did. I did want to cry. I thought I would be happier that Howe was dead. I took revenge. He was dead, and the crimes against Highever finally had justice. 

But it just _hurt_. It hurt to know the person I loved as an uncle would do this. It hurt that I had to kill him. Everything hurt. There was no satisfaction in this. There was no joy. It was just… it felt like an empty victory. 

The worst part is that… even as I smiled at her, the warmest smile I could, I couldn't help but wonder if everything I had experienced with _her_ was a lie too. Howe had destroyed the good memories of my past. The life I had learned to love in Fereldan and all the wonderful memories… they were tainted now. 

I couldn't trust anyone from my past. I couldn't trust the people I had grown up with. That just hurt. 

"We should head to the others," Aiden pointed out. He waved when Anora and I turned to look at him. "There are many others who need to escape from here." 

"Right," I agreed. With a little flourish, I bowed, and offered Anora my arm, as if we were at a ball and I was escorting her. "My lady?" She laughed a little and took my arm, holding her head high. "I suppose I owe you a waltz later." 

"Save the dancing for Layla, Lord Nuada." Anora gave me a curious look, but I pointedly looked away, not wanting to get into it right now. "His lover, Anora, and a mage warden." It… I had no idea if I was more put out or amused by Anora's startled look. 

Regardless, we left the area, and stepped into the hallf, checking for anyone who might follow us down. However, clanking armor signaled the arrival of armed forces, and I sighed when I saw a murderous Cauthrien was the leader of the group. 

Well, this just got complicated. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Howe is dead~ Howe is dead~ And lots of Nuada introspection. I added more people in the dungeon because it felt like something Howe would do. 'But soft through younger window breaks' is from Shakespeare, as I'm sure many know, specifically from Romeo and Juliet. I figured Anora wouldn't be fond of a play like that. Riordan is technically the _first_ of the prisoners you meet, but I shifted him towards the end. 
> 
> Special shoutout to my dear friend, Yuffie, who helped me a lot with the Howe fight~ 
> 
> Next Chapter – See what Cleon and the others have been up to 


	100. Chapter 88) Dark Wolves

Chapter 88) Dark Wolves 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"There is no way this is going to work," Merrill hissed. I simply grinned and continued setting up. "We're going to get in so much trouble."_

_"They have to catch us, first," I pointed out. I rigged everything up nicely, and took her hand. "And we are going to be conveniently away."_

_"We are?" She yelped as I dragged her behind me. "Oh, Cleon!"_

_It turned out that the prank went off without a hitch, and Tamlen and Lyna were blamed. I gave them my dessert the next couple of days to make up for it._

* * *

It wasn't the first time we'd split up. I think it _was_ the first time I wasn't there to keep an eye on Aiden since Ostagar, though. Since before Ostagar, even. The divisions had always been Nuada and Layla, Aiden and me. It made me twitchy, not being there to watch out for him. I trusted Nuada, of course, but it still… made me twitchy. 

Of course, I'd prefer if I was there to keep an eye on _both_ of them. This was Howe. Howe, who destroyed Nuada's life. Howe, who ravaged Aiden's alienage. There were so many ways this could blow up in faces because of emotions. Now, granted, Aiden and Nuada were probably the champions at not letting their emotions cloud their judgment, but this was different. _They_ were different. Yes, Leliana and Wynne were there, and maybe they could keep a leash on them, but… 

A tug on my sleeve reminded me what I was doing. I was outside the estate with Elspeth, keeping an eye out for anything that looked suspicious, while she paid attention to sounds. She kept a grip on my arm for convenience, and we kept our hoods up for the same. We had also smeared some dirt on my face to hide my vallaslin. I disliked the idea, but I understood. A Dalish would not wander around such a busy shemlen city, especially now. 

'The city is both united and split.' Elspeth's signs were small, almost as if she was whispering. 'They are united in opposing Loghain, but split on who would be ruler.' 

'Aiden mentioned something similar last time he went out,' I signed back, keeping my own signs small. Some guards skirted too close, and I watched them as they left. No, I think that had been just normal bullying. 'Is it still three way split?' 

'Yes.' Her eyes were a little sad, but she shook her head. I could practically hear her saying that Couslands did their duty. 'Though, it really would be unseemly for Anora to remarry so soon. To secure the throne, or power, I am certain she will agree, but only then.' 

'Do you like this Anora?' There was no response. 'Elspeth?' 

'I did.' Her signs somehow became even smaller. 'But after Howe, I do not…' she waved her hand almost helplessly. 'When Zathrian proved himself responsible for the curse, what did you think?' Huh? 'Did you question your memories of him?' 

I shook my head. 'Regardless of the curse, I know he cared for me as genuinely as he could.' 

'I see.' She drooped, eyes sad again, and I almost thought she might be holding back tears. 'I can't do that with Howe. This wasn't some revenge thing that I got caught in the middle in. He betrayed us. Every memory I have of him is now tainted, because I do not know when he liked us and when he hated us. I don't know what was a lie and what wasn't.' She curled into herself further. 'I cannot help but wonder if there are others like that. What if Cailan only pretended to like us? What if Anora was only friends with us because it helped secure her position? What if Uncle Maric smiled at us because it was too risky to offend Father?' 

'Why would you think things like that?' I noticed she did not mention Loghain, but chose to not comment on it. 

'That was how it was when we were abroad. That's why Nuada and I were always alone.' Her hands shook. 'I thought Fereldan was different. It was home. We made good friends and memories. But now, I am no longer certain. If he, my father's best friend, was false, then it could be anyone else.' Yeah, though from what I understand, her father, and family, was probably the only ones who thought well of the guy. Still, that didn't change the fact that he _had_ been kind, friendly, and then pulled this. 'So, I do not know how to answer. I _want_ to trust my memories, but I can't.' And, just like Aiden's fear of red, this likely wasn't something going away anytime soon, if ever. 

'What about us?' 

'You all are different. I met you after.' Met us after, went through so much, and thus, we were above the questioning. She trusted _us_ , but she could not trust anyone else. 'Might we…?' 

'Think Morrigan might like that?' I pointed to a mirror on sale nearby, a golden one you could hold in your hand. Deer and sparrows frolicked together in the scene on the back. 'She likes shiny things.' 

'Like jewelry!' Her smile was a little too bright, but I saw the appreciation in it, and her eyes. 'Here, let's buy it for her.' 

'Sounds good.' I nodded to a person with short red hair waving at us. 'I think he is trying to get our attention.' 

'Then we shall see what he wants _after_ I buy a few things.' She made a face. 'I am meeting with some nobles at the tavern tomorrow, and I need jewelry that matches the dress Eamon had made for me.' 

'Aren't you heading to a ball tonight?' 

'And one after that.' She shook her head. 'I will, hopefully, win allies.' 

'Take a guard.' 

'Sten and Oghren have already volunteered.' Oh, well, that's good. 'Shale might be fun, though.' 

'I would _pay_ to see that!' I felt her shake from laughter even as she conversed with the shopkeeper, and I hid a grin behind my hand. It wasn't long at all before the mirror was carefully wrapped and placed in a bag, along with earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and other assorted jewelry. I had a feeling she bought some for the rest of the group too, those that wore them. 

With that done, we headed to the man with red hair, who smiled warmly at us. 'Hello there, Sir Warden, my lady,' the man greeted. He waited patiently as Elspeth signed, so he _definitely_ knew who we were. 'The name is Slim. I know Aiden.' And Aiden wasn't here to confirm. 'You lot are fighting the good fight against Loghain, yes?' 

'Well, that is the purpose of the Landsmeet, yes.' Elspeth shifted slightly, to free up the sword on her hip. I subtly checked that my daggers were within easy reach. 'Why?' 

'Well, I've heard that you and some of your companions have certain skills. Skills of the street you might say?' Skills of the… wait, was this things like sneaking around? 'I am an… information broker.' 

'You are one who gives rumors and tips to would be thieves.' Elspeth smiled wryly. 'You take a payment, give the information, and then you have plausible deniability just in case. I know the game. I've played it.' 

'Precisely.' Well, this was interesting. 'Of course, I am not fond of blood. Call me old fashioned, but the Maker said thou shall not strange, decapitate, or whatnot unless the fellow really had it coming.' Ha! 'But I have potential jobs, ones that will help your cause.' 

'Which, of course, will get you a great deal of money in return.' Elspeth glanced at me, and switched to just signing, no talking. 'What do you think?' 

'I think we're bored, and this will be a fun distraction,' I signed back, unable to keep from grinning. 'It's like pranking.' 

'I suppose that is true,' she signed, looking thoughtful. 'There is a lot of information that can only be gained in the shadows.' She smiled back. 'Shall we, then?' 

'Time to go hunting.' 

* * *

We stopped by the estate on the way and picked up Zevran and Morrigan for the fun. And it was fun. It was a _lot_ of fun, far more than illegal activity probably should be. 

We stole a purse of gems and a stupidly ornamental sword. Raided a warehouse that belonged to a man whose tastes in women apparently ran _way_ too young. Zevran killed him after we were done raiding his warehouse. 

We broke into a lady's room at the Gnawed Noble Tavern, apparently a lady with _horrendous_ taste in men, given that she and Howe were sexually involved. We raided one of Howe's warehouses too. Elspeth was particularly happy about that one, because it provided proof of embezzlement, whatever that word actually meant, and would cast further doubt on Loghain. The last one ended up in an ambush, but after getting screeched at by Morrigan, Slim promised to rework that one (and he returned the money, which was kind of him). 

Now we were getting him that time, by going to steal Loghain's crown. This was the best day ever. 

Elspeth and Morrigan were the 'bait' for this situation. Specifically, Morrigan had shapeshifted into a cat, and Elspeth was pretending to be a traveling Nevarran noblewoman who just _had_ to find her 'precious kitten'. Who, of course, was going to be as catty as possible. Honestly, this was all worth it just for Elspeth to pretend to be hysterical and watching heavily armed people panic over a 'crying girl' and try to catch a cat. 

Zevran and I were tasked with sneaking in and stealing the crown. Which resulted in me choking the keeper of said crown until he passed out. Part of me was worried that he might die, but hey, he might live, and it was a little more reliable than hitting him in the head and hoping that would do it. 

'So, valuables tend to be hidden under and in things,' Zevran signed. He was bouncing on his toes, grinning widely, and I knew why. He'd been having the time of his life too, though I do think he would have preferred outright assassination. Preferably of Howe, and then we'd conveniently be with Aiden and Nuada. 'So, I will check for hidden compartments. You check for other things.' 

'Like what, the bed?' I signed back, making my expression as droll as possible. He bit back a laugh; I could tell by how his shoulders shook slightly. 'Well, why not?' With a shrug, I headed for it, peeking under it. Nothing, of course. 

The wood bent under my hand, though. There was empty space under it. But I could not hook my hand around the board to pull it up. So, instead, I nudged Zevran with my foot, and when he turned to look at me, I pointed to the floor. 

He got what I meant immediately, and crouched down to poke around too. 'Well, this might be the quaintest hiding place,' he signed, grinning. He shifted to lie on his stomach, feeling around with one hand while he signed with the other. 'I hear many creative curses outside. I think Morrigan scratched one of them.' 

'Yes, her nails are sharp,' I signed back, glancing up to the door. Things would be bad if it opened. 'My back always hurts in the morning.' 

'As well as other parts~' He actually fluttered his hand to add a little bit of lightness to the sentence. 'Oh, might have found something.' 

Yeah, but the door was opening. So, I shoved him further under, and ducked underneath as well, hoping that whoever was entering would not look underneath the bed. Zevran tugged us a little further under, nudging me to draw my legs up, to be smaller. 

We both held our breath as shiny shoes appeared in our vision. The shoes slipped underneath, tapping the area where I had noticed the wood bending. They did this a few times, before stepped back. Then, slowly, the shoes left. 

I waited until Zevran nudged me, and then I slowly crawled out, glancing around. No one. They had come in to check the area, and then left, likely because the guards were busy with Morrigan and Elspeth. 

A tap on my leg brought my attention down, and I saw Zevran had pried the board up. Inside was a very, _very_ shiny crown. We won~ 

We exchanged a grin, and quickly took the crown, storing it in my pack as Zevran replaced the board. Then, we peeked outside, and bolted. We'd get Elspeth and Morrigan later, when it was a little safer. 

Haha! We stole the crown~ We stole the crown~ 

* * *

Slim ended up finding an alternate route for stealing the 'Tears of Andraste', and one successfully stolen vial later, Slim was delivering it to the Chantry, and we returned to the estate, still far too pleased by everything. However, the heavy air inside that estate told me something had happened. Something horrible had happened. I could see it in the drooping servants and their forced smiles as they escorted us into Eamon's study. 

As soon as I saw the others, I knew _exactly_ what was wrong. Leliana and Wynne were back, along with a blonde woman I neither knew nor cared to know. Aiden and Nuada were not with them. _That_ was what I cared about. 

'What happened?' Zevran asked. He outwardly appeared calm, if annoyed, but I saw his hands shake. He did _not_ like it that Aiden wasn't back. 'Even Shale looks aggravated.' 

'It is nothing a good head crushing won't solve,' Shale immediately responded. So immediately that there was actually a delay between the slight laughter and relaxing of the air and someone signing me the words. 'I have a few good ideas. But really, is anyone surprised? I'm not. Since when do things ever go right with this group?' I wished that was less true than it was. 

'Besides, it isn't _that_ much of a problem,' Oghren added. His signs were clunky, and Alistair helpfully signed too so that I could make sure I knew what was going on. 'Nothing that can't be solved with a few pints of ale, a nug, and a team of exotic dancers.' Elgar'nan, what is going on? 'But, ah, you guys walked in right where we were about to learn how one weak willed soldier with no thought in her head captured two skilled warriors.' …Captured? CAPTURED?! 

'There were… there were a lot of prisoners in the estate,' Leliana explained. She didn't sign. She couldn't seem to unclench her fists to do so. Alistair signed for her too. 'Nuada and Aiden prioritized their escape, and used themselves as bait.' This made _marginally_ more sense. 'Oh, Andraste, watch over our friends, please…' 

'And they were taken to this Fort Drakon place.' As if any of the non-Fereldan in this room knew of… in fact, as if anyone but Alistair, Eamon, the blond woman I assumed was Anora, and Elspeth had any idea. Though, judging by how pale the former two went, and how Anora grimaced, I imagined it was bad. 

'It's a tower that predates Fereldan, an Imperium thing,' Alistair explained slowly. His hands shook slightly, and I saw him grind his teeth in frustration. 'Think the Tower at Ostagar.' Oh, okay. 'It's the garrison for the city guard, and a high security prison.' Oh. 'Very high security.' 

'Then what are we waiting for, exactly?' I asked, signing carefully. Was there something I was missing? I looked at everyone to see if there was, but all I saw was determination. Determination, and a little bit of scorn directed at Anora. They… weren't exactly impressed. _I_ was impressed that she'd apparently made that poor of a first impression. Then again, telling us that two of our own were captured to bring her to safety probably wasn't going to help. 'We should go rescue them.' 

'Yes, we need to plan,' Wynne agreed easily. She and Morrigan glanced at each other, and I could already see the wheels spin in their head. 'Perhaps Morrigan and I can destroy the front gates?' I would pay to see that. 'From there, we could-' 

'There is another issue.' It took Sten pointing for me to realize that Anora was speaking. 'Ever since Ostagar, the entire country has been screaming from pain," she was saying, holding herself tall and proud. 'But, strangely, the unrest is worst in the Alienage.' How was that strange? No, seriously, how was that strange? 'Few elves accompanied the army. They should have little reason to be upset.' What? Were they not allowed to mourn the few here? Fen'harel's teeth, maybe them thinking Aiden was dead might have triggered something. 'Which means that Howe and my father must have given them reason.' WHAT ABOUT THE FREAKING 'CULL THE HERD' THING THAT HOWE ADMITTED TO ALREADY?! CREATORS ABOVE, DID SHE THINK WE WERE STUPID OR WAS SHE HERSELF THAT DAMN IGNORANT? ' I do not know what is happening there, but-' 

Elspeth waved her hand, mostly to catch my attention. I noticed with amusement that Anora blinked slowly, clearly startled. 'While I can think of _many_ reasons for the elves to be upset right now, there is still the chance of something occurring there, right now,' Elspeth signed. Her eyes were thoughtful. 'There was a quarantine, if I recall correctly. Either they were inflicted with a serious illness, which means they need help, or that quarantine is hiding something, which means they need help.' 

'But what about Nuada and Aiden?' Layla asked, voicing . Her eyes wavered with worry and I rested a hand on her shoulder in hopes it would ease her mind. 'They are…' 

'Oh, I really wouldn't worry so much about them.' Um… 'Ah, yes, Eamon?' I knew that was more of a prompt for me than anyone else, but I was grateful for it. 'I didn't catch the first part.' I doubted that, but it was still good for me. 

'Elspeth, should you not be more worried?' Eamon asked. He looked so confused. 'This is your brother, and a dear friend, and it's… Fort… Drakon…' The signs slowed to show how he slowly trailed off. 'Oh, how could I forget?' Eamon actually facepalmed, and Elspeth seemed to laugh, face lighting up with the smile. 'You and Nuada accidentally broke in during your first Landsmeet, and purposely did so just a few years ago.' …What. 

'Precisely.' Elspeth's signs were light, matching her smile. 'But even without that, Fort Drakon cannot be worse to escape from than a Nevarran crypt, and we got locked into those plenty of times.' Uh…. 'So, please…' Please save Aiden's home since he cannot protect it. 

Well, I couldn't refuse with that. We'll come up with a group and head out, then. This time… this time, we _will_ actually help. Not like last time where we could only control the damage. We would… 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Crime wave is an eight part quest, basically, given if you have stealth and steal. You gain the name 'Dark Wolf' if you steal the crown, hence the title. In game, the conversation about the quest start is accompanied by Anora making her case, but Elspeth cut her off before then. Also, how impressed the party is with Anora depends on how the encounter with Cauthrien went. It's best when you surrender, and this is mildly reflected here. The Golden Mirror is a plot-gift that you can give Morrigan. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Unrest in the Alienage with Layla 


	101. Chapter 89) Unrest

Chapter 89) Unrest 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"It was always a poor place," Neria whispered. She carefully brushed my hair as we prepared for bed. "Poor, but safe. Decrepit, but happy. My uncle Cyrion took care of me as if I were his own child. He did the same with Sorris and Shianni." She laughed a little. "Maker, he even brought Shianni to the Alienage at great personal expense when her parents died."_

_"It sounds like you had a happy family," I murmured. It was nice to hear about it. Anders had a nice one too, until everyone turned on him for his magic. "A very happy one."_

_"I did." She laughed again. "It wasn't perfect, but it was home. We guarded our own. I miss it."_

_"Maybe when you pass your Harrowing, you can arrange to go visit?"_

_"Maybe. We'll see."_

* * *

The Alienage felt empty. It was one thing to hear about the massacres here, but it was another to step into this place, and realize just how _empty_ it was compared to the Alienage in my memory. I was almost glad Aiden was not here. If my heart was breaking, then his would shatter. 

Then again, perhaps it would not. Perhaps he was numb to such things. But, in my eyes, that was even worse. 

"Is there anyone we can talk to?" Alistair asked. He had _begged_ to come along, wanting to see what was going on in the Alienage with his own eyes, and I think he was just desperate to do something. He studied often, but right now, Nuada and Aiden were trapped in a prison, one known for torturing its captives. "Someone we can find out more from?" It was just the three of us. I worried for the others, but I think Elspeth had designed tasks to distract them with. I hope. 

"There is Aiden's family?" I replied. I remembered them and, perhaps more importantly, I thought they would remember Cleon and me. "His house is… somewhere around here." We went there for first aid. I remembered that. 

'Yes, it is,' Cleon confirmed. His eyes were narrowed, and his face was scrunched up. 'It smells. It did not smell last time.' Yes, I could smell it too. There was rot and sickness everywhere, even the air. The scent of blood all but choked me. 'Regardless, that is the house.' There was a black ribbon pinned to the door. Yes, I remembered that. That was how Aiden had told us which one was his. 'Enter slowly.' 

"Right…" Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the door, glancing around. Some eyed us suspiciously, but most did not even pay attention. The Alienage was more than empty. It was dying. "Um… hello?" I knocked on the door, and thought I heard sounds from within. "Is… someone in there?" What were the names again? "Shianni? Soris?" 

"Who wants to know?" I thought I recognized the voice. I had last heard it as breathless and weak, not waspish and snappish, but I still thought I did. 

"It is Layla. I… I am the mage who was here last time, when that horrible noble kidnapped and…" I did not want to say the words. "I healed you afterwards. I was with a Dalish elf named Cleon and-" 

The door abruptly opened, and I was staring right at a wide-eyed Shianni. "You…?" She looked like she got punched in the stomach. "You are… and he is…" She glanced around, eyes almost wild. "Aiden. Is he-?" 

"He is… in the middle of something…" That was not quite a lie, right? "I am sorry. He was out when we learned there was something going on here, and we just did not want to wait and risk more of you being-" 

"Come in. All three of us." She waved us inside, and ushered us to the table. "Soris is out at the moment, trying to buy some food while avoiding all the glares. People blame him for the raid, but we all know it was going to happen anyway." It was still horrific, though. "I don't know your companion, do I? I'm Shianni, Aiden's cousin." 

"It is very nice to meet you," Alistair replied. He hesitated a moment before bringing down his hood. Shianni gaped. "Ah, should I have left it up? I apologize for giving you a ghastly thing to see." Alistair! "I am Alistair. For right now, I just really want to help out Aiden's home." 

"I… see…" Shianni replied slowly. I could tell she was shocked still. "A-ah, right, drinks…" She headed for the kitchen, hunting through. "We don't really have much. Water, beer, some sour wine…" 

"Cleon and I will take the beer. I think Layla will want the water." 

"Oh, good." Shianni returned quickly and passed us mugs. "Well, what do you know? About what's going on, I mean." 

Alistair and I exchanged a look, and he nodded to me. A quick glance to Cleon confirmed it. I would speak. Alistair would translate for Cleon. "We know about the massacre here already," I answered. I tightened my grip on my cup. "Though, I will admit, I underestimated the extent…" 

"We're better off than some," Shianni answered. I could only wince. "In Orlais, chevaliers will gut entire sections just for their initiation, if you believe half of the rumors." That was… "Anything else?" 

"Sadly, no, but even if the only help we can give is some healing and some stories, we desperately wanted to." 

"Well, there's been a plague. Some think it's the Blight, but these Tevinter mages supposedly cure it." 

"That is impossible. There is no cure for Taint." 

"Thank you!" She threw her hands up in the air. "Everyone knows the only cure is to become a Warden, but _nooo_ , as soon as I point out that these charlatans don't know healing from pissing, everyone goes all whiny!" That was… an interesting mental image. "Supposedly, Valendrien is in 'quarantine' too, but they won't even let me exchange notes." She used her hand to mime someone talking. "Something, something, carry the plague, something, bullshit." 

"Truthfully, the theory _is_ sound. There are some illnesses that spread through…" That… was getting too technical. "No, please, forget I said anything. You have other reasons, yes?" 

"Feelings, mostly." She sighed. "But Soris and I both agree. There's something _wrong_." 

"I see." I was curious by how strongly she felt, but a quick glance to Cleon gave me a plausible theory. Neria was a powerful magic user. If she, Shianni, and Soris were related, it was entirely possible that Shianni and Soris inherited just enough magic to give them sharper instincts, much like Cleon had. "You said mostly?" 

"I swear; half the people they quarantine are perfectly healthy." 

"I see." …I had a very bad feeling, and I glanced at Cleon and Alistair to see if they were thinking the same. The dark looks said they were. "Who did you say was curing people?" 

"Tevinter mages, given special permission from the Regent." This was… "Why?" 

"…Has the possibility of slavers occurred to you?" 

"It did to Alarith." She clenched her hands. "He's a former slave from the Imperium. He refused to talk to anyone who said they were saviors or anything." She looked up at us. "You think so too?" 

"It is… a possibility." It was also a possibility that they _were_ really helping. But, considering how odd all of this was, and considering our luck, I highly doubted it. "Where do they keep everyone?" 

"Supposedly, in an infirmary, but I've kept count. There's not enough room for everyone, and _everyone_ they took has disappeared." She leaned forward. "There is a warehouse that Soris saw them loitering by, though. _That_ could house a lot of elves. Easily." 

"Then that is where we shall go." I looked to Alistair and Cleon, and both nodded firmly. "Can you show us the warehouse?" 

If you wanted to deal with the snake, you did not mess around with the body. You cut off the head. And heads were going to _roll_. 

* * *

The warehouse was decrepit and abandoned-looking on the outside. The inside was another matter. It was clear as soon as we stepped inside that someone had taken great pains to clean the inside. We found the 'someone' fairly quickly as well, once we made it to a 'storage room' filled with cages packed with elves to the point that many were pressed against the bars. I recognized the robes of the person who turned to face us as Tevinter. We were dealing with a magister and, perhaps more importantly, I could think of only one reason for something like this. These were slavers. 

"Ah, it seems we have guests," the person murmured. He actually bowed, but it seemed so, so mocking. "I am Caladrius." I honestly could not care any less. "And you must be two of the Wardens I have heard so much about, along with the royal bastard who might end up king." Should I dignify that with a response? Cleon was rolling his eyes. "What? Not even a little curious?" 

"I see people in cages," I answered coolly. I could sense him trying to reach into our blood to influence us. "Alistair? Blood magic." Alistair quickly cleansed the area of magic. "That will not work." 

"A shame. Might've been funny." Yes, someone was going to die now. "I suppose I can see why you can hardly get two words out of Loghain besides 'wardens' these days. It has surpassed even 'gold' in popularity." 

"If that is the case, then you know to be afraid." 

"Now, now, is _this_ really how we're going to begin?" He was… patronizing us. He was actually patronizing us. "I was hoping for civility." Cleon quickly signed a reply. "What did he say?" 

"He says that he can bash your head in with civility with ease." He actually said a bit more, but I did not feel like describing just how Cleon planned to do that. 

"Are you certain you wish to commit such a rash action? Look around you-" 

"I see humans and elves, when we have fought and survived darkspawn, demons, and dragons." I called the markings up and punched the ground, fracturing the stone floor. It was worth the wide-eyed shock and fear in his face. "Are you so certain you wish to do _anything_ but do exactly what we say?" 

"I'd like to point out that you might be a magister, but a mage is a mage," Alistair added cheerfully. He was even smiling. "All magic can be canceled out by templars, and I highly doubt you have much experience fighting someone who can block your greatest weapon. _And_ I am templar trained." Alistair pointed to Cleon before continuing his signing so Cleon could keep up. "He, by the way, is trained by two or three different types of assassins, and knows how to move like a shadow." 

"K-kings…" Caladrius began. I found it far too amusing that we had terrified him. Of course, we… sort of went out of our way for it. "Kings should not threaten potential-" 

"Kings _never_ threatened. They inform." Alistair was still smiling. "And I am informing you that if you do not surrender anything and everything that ties you to Loghain, as well as the keys to all the cells here, you will see why we are Wardens." 

"A-ah, right…" He grit his teeth, and I felt like we just made a horrible mistake. "Then, I shall inform you that you should not underestimate a magister!" There was a flash of light that made me stumble back. It might have done more, but I drew up a barrier, and Alistair quickly used a templar trick to cleanse the air of magic. But when the light cleared I noticed something that made me see red. Caladrius and his people were _running_. 

"Alistair, help the elves!" I yelled, chasing after Caladrius. Cleon easily fell in step with me, and then overtook me. That was a good thing, as I lost track of Caladrius quickly, but Cleon was much, much easier to spot. 

I ran through the streets, shoving people out of my way. They yelped and protested, a few even trying to grab me by the arm, but I gave them a little static shock to keep them from holding me. I had to chase; I had to keep Cleon within sight. 

The smell of the sea greeted me before I realized we were at the docks and, perhaps more importantly, Caladrius was on a ship that was starting to sail away…! 

Cleon glanced back at me as he headed for the edge of the docks, and I knew what he wanted instantly. As he jumped, I used a bit of magic to propel him forward, allowing him to easily land on the deck of the ship and I saw him easily fighting those on board, even Caladrius. But that did not change one crucial fact: the ship was still _sailing away_. 

"You will not get away!" Snapping the words, I called upon the magic of the air and water and ordered it to freeze. Ice crackled onto the water and spread out, catching some waves mid-break as it ran all the way to the ship and clawed up the sides. "Loghain and his supporters might condone slavery, _but we do not!_ " I jerked my hands up, and used the ice to lift the ship clear out of the water. It unbalanced those on board, but I saw Cleon flit about as easily as a bird, people dropping with every flash of his blades. 

When I saw Caladrius's head fly, dropping into the water, I felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. I almost collapsed, but locked my knees in time. Though, I did have to rest my hands on my knees to keep from falling anyway, and I struggled to breath. That had been… that had been a lot of running and that had been… quite a bit of magical manipulation. 

A gentle hand rubbed my back, and when I glanced up, I saw it was Alistair. "The elves that slaver had caged up are freed now," he informed me with a bright smile. "Though, it took a bit? I mean; you left the warrior without any skill with locks in charge." Um… er… y-yes, in retrospect, I suppose that had been a poor decision… 

"I am sorry," I finally managed to say. Honestly, that was two really bad decisions. The first had been thinking intimidation would get us submission instead of a flight, and the second had been to chase. It would have been smarter for _me_ to remain behind, to melt the locks. It would have been smarter for Cleon to have blocked the exits, or for me to keep talking as he slipped around to assassinate? Had Cleon been trying to suggest that? Did he also have a little bit of arrogance? I was not sure... 

"Ah, well. Looks like you and Cleon got the slavers themselves, so all's well that end's well!" He snickered at my droll look before turning to look at something behind us. "Ah, lovely day today, yes, everyone?" Belatedly, I realized the docks were _packed_ with people, who all just witnessed that, and heard exactly what we had been talking about. "You are wonderfully dramatic today, Layla." 

"That was _not_ my intention." My voice was a hiss. That was _three_ mistakes. I think I had gotten a bit of a big head because of the earlier successes… "It really was not." 

"Well, I can't say we were any less." He waved to the crowd, smiling warmly. "Sorry about the water! We'll get it cleared up as soon as our friend is done dispensing justice and gets back to shore, okay?" I nearly groaned when I realized there was _another_ mistake. Alistair did not have his hood up. There was no way to hide who he was. "Oh, but is there anything I can do to help while we're waiting?" He laughed awkwardly. "I mean; not sure if Layla can do anything after _that_ , but I've some arms that can carry things?" 

There was an awkward silence, but slowly, the people closed in, and took Alistair up on his offer. I sat on one of the boxes on the dock, and watched him chat happily with the dock workers as he helped, accepting scoldings with a laugh, making sure everyone was clear before something moved with a smile. 

I could see them smile back, and thought that perhaps this would be the king Alistair could be. He could be a king that everyone knew would listen, and do what he could. I could see them realize that in their eyes. 

…We took this up to save Aiden's home, but we found evidence against Loghain and gained Alistair a lot of credibility among the common folk. So, I suppose the mistakes were… not quite that bad… 

Now, if Nuada and Aiden could return… everything would be fine… 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Unrest in the Alienage marks the first time you can visit the Alienage in the main quest. Which I shortened. A lot. Because while the quest is interesting, it's only really interesting at the beginning and at the end. I… also just found the mental image of Layla and Cleon chasing Caladrius through the streets and onto his ship too good to pass up? Ahaha? It's also a quest that's pretty good at punching holes in a growing arrogance in the chars. 
> 
> Next chapter – Drakon with Aiden 


	102. Chapter 90) Fort Drakon

Chapter 90) Fort Drakon 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"They took him to Drakon, poor sod." The whispers made me pause, and I looked up from my work, curious. "He won't be getting out of there. He'll be killed for a quota."_

_"Maybe it's different," someone else whispered. They didn't sound too hopeful. "Maybe he'll get out."_

_"Yeah, right. They dragged him in for nothing, and the fool never could shut up. He'll die, and they'll say it's suicide, just like the others."_

_"It's the home of the guard."_

_"Since when does the guard protect elves. They protect pretty humans, and that's it."_

_I shook my head, and went back to work. I supposed we'd be hearing about another 'tragic suicide' from the country's most secure prison again in the morning._

* * *

Red. Red, red, red. So much red. Too much red. I couldn't breath. I was going to drown in it, or snap or… or… 

With a considerable amount of effort, I dragged myself from the panic spiral of my thoughts, focusing on my breathing just as Sten had suggested. I was shaking, feeling like I needed to throw up. We had just been thrown into cells, but we had a clear view of the bodies of other prisoners, and there was just _so much red_ … 

"I am somehow unsurprised the place became a torture chamber under Howe's rule." It took me a significant amount of time to realize Lord Nuada even said something. "I think maybe… half of them are alive," Lord Nuada continued to murmur. I was tempted to glare at him, just for being horribly calm, but I couldn't bring myself to uncurl from my tight ball enough to do so. 

I agreed to this because I trust him, but I was starting to regret I trusted him. 

"Though, I have to say, I do find it fascinating seeing the cells from this point of view. It's very scenic." 

Could I punch him? I wanted to. Very. Very. Badly. 

"Join the Grey Wardens! See the sights from the floors of the best prisons in the land! Of course that's not much of a recruitment slogan. Then again, Wardens don't really have a recruitment slogan." 

Lord Nuada, I was seriously, _seriously_ going to crack your head against the bars. …Wait, no, I wasn't because there would be _more red_ …! 

"Well, I suppose that I'm done gathering information. Let's escape." 

…what. WHAT. 

"Aiden, that's some glare." Lord Nuada twisted to look at me. I could only continue to glare. I was so pissed off right now. "Why are you mad? This is beyond the normal 'oh, hey, you didn't tell me shit again' mad, which I probably did again." Didn't he…?! …Wait, no, he might not. He actually might not. We had not fought many major battles together, and that was where you saw the most red. 

"…Red…" I rasped. His expression blanked, and I knew I was right. _If_ he had known, he had forgotten. "I can't take…" There was too much red. I was going to spiral again. 

"…Aiden, I owe you a night of drinking." Ha… "I just thought you were napping." He looked annoyed, and I knew it was at himself. "Hang on just a bit longer. We're escaping now." 

I just nodded, curling up again so that I didn't see the red. Too much red. I didn't want to even see if the owners of the red were still alive. I was scared that they were. 

"Ser?" I heard Lord Nuada call. He rapped on the door. "Sers, might we talk?" 

"No," one refused bluntly. "If you're not bleeding, I don't care." 

"Are you sure?" Lord Nuada replied slowly. Actually, it almost sounded like Morrigan when she was being extra flirtatious with Cleon. It was bizarre enough that I rolled over, just to see what was going on. "I was thinking you two could keep me company?" He was wearing a very, _very_ flirtatious smirk. "My friend here is fast asleep and I'm so lonely and bored." Um… um… 

"W-well…" The guard glanced at his friend, face slowly turning red. "I… uh… we could?" His friend nodded very eagerly. This was insane. "Yeah! Yeah, we will!" This could not work. 

It did. The guards opened the door right up and came inside. I focused on trying to process this bizarre set of events, and not reacting when one eyed me suspiciously. 

"What's with this ink on his lower back?" 

"That's a tattoo," Lord Nuada replied lightly. "I have one too." Yes, his was on the right side of his back, entirely. Layla's was on her left. Or were they reversed? Regardless, they were mirror images of each other. Mine was two wings on my lower back, wrapping around my hips so that the tips were level with my navel. Cleon's were actually on his shoulder blades, small wings on both sides. "See?" 

"Should've been a dog." Well, excuse me for not being a bitch. "Yours is _nice_ though." 

"Oh, thank you~" Lord Nuada laughed, eyes dancing wickedly. "But enough of that. There's too much armor. Take it off so we can have a bit of fun." 

The two guards could not strip fast enough. "They put too many buckles on these things!" 

"They do indeed." Lord Nuada waited for them to take off all the armor before smiling slowly. "Thank you very kindly." He shifted, and all at once, his demeanor went from flirtatious to _dangerous_. "Sleep well." 

Two punches. He threw two punches, and down they went, groaning and unconscious. 

"Maker's balls, Lord Nuada," I groaned, sitting up. Lord Nuada ignored me, poking picking up the armor. "What are you doing?" 

"Getting us out, as I should have earlier," he answered easily. He tossed me a breastplate. "Get that on." What. "Come on. Quickly." He was not serious. There was no way he could be serious. "Aiden, you do want to leave, right?" He _was_ being serious. There was no way this was going to work. "Aiden, _can_ you move?" 

"Reluctantly." Sighing, I put on the armor, grimacing at how awkward it felt. We didn't have clothes to wear underneath, and so the metal felt warm, sticky even. Gross. "Armor on. Now what." 

"Follow me." He just… walked out, casually using some keys he must have found with the armor to unlock cells as we passed. Half of the people stumbled out, skittering off. Half stayed in their puddles of red. "Ah, I knew there was one close by." 

"You knew one of what was close by?" The only answer I got was Lord Nuada opening a door and walking through. "Lord Nuada." Resisting the urge to growl, I followed himself, before blinking slowly, trying to process everything. Why were we in an armory? 

"Here, grab some better fitting armor, and a helmet that hides your ears," Lord Nuada instructed. He snagged a bit of clean cloth to use as an eyepatch, covering his blind, and used another bit of cloth to twist his hair up from… from hip length to a compact bun. "Aiden, seriously, less standing around admiring my handsomeness, more moving." 

"…You've done shit like this before." That was the only explanation I had. 

"I spent a childhood in Antiva, and my early teen years in Nevarra and Orlais." His tone implied 'yes, I very much have'. "There's not really enough time to explain the plan in detail, but you do realize I wouldn't have decided for us to get here if I didn't have three or four plans to get out, right?" 

"I'm just going to smile, nod, and remember you're my strategist for a reason." 

"Well, I think this is more of tactics, but yes, I am." He grinned. "Helmet. Now." 

"Fine." It took a bit of hunting, but I did eventually find one that covered my ears well enough. These had been made for humans, not elves. "I'm going to pretend to be mute if someone has to talk." 

"Providing I'm remembering things correctly, we'll be out soon." I still couldn't believe this was really happening. Was I in the middle of a fever dream? "This way!" Of course, Lord Nuada was having entirely too much fun with all of this. _Entirely too much_. 

"When do I get to be back in control of everything?" I grumbled as we walked down the hall. I waved half-heartedly to the soldiers as we passed. People were less likely to be suspicious of friendly people. "I thought I was the leader." 

"To think you used to freak out when in control," Lord Nuada snickered, flashing a smile and a wink to a passing servant. They blushed and scampered off. "You remember?" 

"You can laugh later." 

"Well, to answer your question, after the Landsmeet, I think. That's when the real battle begins." Right… "Here we are." Now, where were we? Besides a closed door. "Pardon, ser?" 

"Come in," an annoyed voice called. Lord Nuada opened the door without a second's pause, and I saw the room was some sort of study-office thing, where a man in armor glared at us from his desk. The glare softened slightly when he saw us, though. "Ah, you must be the new recruits we were expecting." …Oh, I got it now. There were new recruits everyday because of the losses at Ostagar and Loghain's desperate attempts to keep up 'the peace'. So long as we got armor, and hid some recognizable features, it would be child's play to sneak out because there were always new faces. "You're late." 

"Terribly sorry, sir!" Lord Nuada replied, snapping into a salute. I mimicked him a split-second later. "We… ah… got lost, and then got yelled at by some corporal for getting some dust on some armor?" 

"Well, you're here now." The man got up from his desk, eyes narrowed as he walked around us, eyeing us like we were pieces of meat he wasn't sure he wanted to buy. I was reminded of the matchmaker I met… _long_ before all of this started. "Yes, good, good… no slouching, no fidgeting… good discipline. You serve somewhere before?" 

"Just the town militia, ser, but we took it seriously." 

"I can tell." He stepped away from us, smiling slightly. "All right, you'll be heading out on a patrol straight away. The password for the front doors is 'rabbit'." 

"Yes, ser!" Lord Nuada saluted again, and I, again, mimicked the action. "Have a blessed day!" 

We marched right out of there, and as everyone greeted us kindly, wished us luck, I realized two things. One, I had forgotten there were actually some nice people serving our enemies. Two, we were literally about to just stroll out of the most fortified prison in all of Fereldan. This… this was really happening. This really happened. This actually worked. 

You have got to be kidding me. 

* * *

"Welcome back, you two." The icing on the 'there is no way any of this is real' cake was Lady Elspeth greeting the two of us with a warm, kind, and completely unsurprised smile. "I am pleased to see you have returned unharmed," she continued, walking down the front steps to meet us as we made our way to the estate. Lord Nuada was snickering, while I continued to just… stare blankly at everything. "I do not suppose you have more information for me? Wynne and Leliana told me everything they knew." 

"I've a ring you need to get to Alfstanna," Lord Nuada answered, tugging it out of his pocket. I could only wonder how it didn't get confiscated with everything else, and decided that he, as a human, had not been as thoroughly searched. "You know about Oswyn?" 

"Yes, I paid him a visit earlier." Her smile faltered. "His legs…" 

"I figured." Lord Nuada sighed. "Other than that, Fort Drakon has been turned into a torture prison place. I got more, but that's to me put in as rumors." 

"Well, I know some people will be angry about _that_." She shook her head. "Cleon, Layla, and Alistair are at the Alienage, by the way." Why would they be there? "There was some… unrest." 

"…What sort of 'unrest'?" I asked slowly. No small part of me wanted to _rush_ to the Alienage, but I held my ground. I trusted them, and I really was in no condition, mentally or physically, to fight. So, I should leave it to them. "What's going on?" 

"That, sadly, we don't know yet, so we limited the group infiltrating to just three," she answered easily, giving me a wan, sad smile. "The quarantine might have lifted, but I imagine few elves would look kindly on humans now, for good reasons." She shook her head. "Regardless, everyone else is inside. Anora is safely in some guest rooms." Oh, how _wonderful_. "Have you any questions?" 

"Why are you out here and not letting us inside?" 

"I am buying time for the servants to finish with setting up your hot baths. I thought you would want them." …Well, now I wondered how far ahead all of this was planned. "I saw you two coming up." …DOES SHE READ MINDS?! "Your exhausted enough to let your thoughts show on your face." 

"Aiden, just smile and nod," Lord Nuada deadpanned. He, unlike me, just looked completely relaxed and resigned. I think that summed up the _entire_ day actually. "When Elspeth decides to ferret out information, it's hers. She got information out of Uncle Duncan." Oh, yes, that _was_ quite the feat. "You're delightfully sarcastic when you're so done with everything." 

"I am so pleased to be entertaining, my lord, my lady," I deadpanned. This went from the best day to the most _bizarre_ I had ever had, and there were a _lot_ of contenders for that title! "Second question." I pointed to Lady Elspeth's clothes. "You're dressed up to greet us?" 

"Ah, yes," Lady Elspeth murmured. She looked a little nervous suddenly. "I am going to the Gnawed Noble Tavern to win allies, in theory." She fiddled with her earrings, biting her lip. "So, I must look the part of a noblewoman. In politics, fashion is armor, and words are weapons." Yes, I knew that. "Does it look weird?" 

"You look very beautiful, but I think the last time I saw you dressed up, it was at a distance during a Landsmeet one or two years ago, so I also think it's a little strange." That… that came out wrong. "I did mention you look beautiful first, right? That wasn't in my head?" 

"No, you said it," Lord Nuada reassured. He was snickering, and I knew it was because Lady Elspeth was visibly confused on how to take my words. "Aiden says you look nice, my dearest twin, so simply leave it at that." He suddenly posed dramatically. For some reason. "Of course, how could you not be, with such a handsome twin? I can't have reaped _all_ the beauty while in the womb!" 

"I knew you hit your head," I deadpanned. Lord Nuada comically gasped, stumbling back as if I had punched him, while Lady Elspeth laughed, relaxing. "Please tell me you are not going alone." 

"No, Sten will be coming with me to the Tavern," Lady Elspeth replied. I tried to process the mental image of Lady Elspeth appearing with a _qunari bodyguard_ in the middle of a tavern frequented by nobles, but all I got was hilarity. "Oghren was my guard for the ball yesterday." Oghren had been? I must have missed that conversation, and I was sorely curious about rumors now. "Leliana and Zevran will be coming with me tonight, though. It is the biggest yet, and we are getting very close to the Landsmeet proper." 

"How long?" 

"It's the day after tomorrow," Lord Nuada answered. His dramatics faded for seriousness as he crossed his arms and frowned in thought. "But we will have to stay inside tomorrow, for safety. Today, and tonight, are going to be the last days for preparations." He nodded. "Aiden, I will be heading out later and utilizing my family name to get us some pretty armor and runes, as well as check in with a friend in the market." 

"I'm going to take a very long bath, and a longer nap," I sighed. Everything was starting to ache. "Though, if Cleon, Layla, and Alistair arrive while I'm in either place, please wake…" Wait, hold on a moment. " _Alistair_ left the estate?!" 

"Oh, I'm sure it's an amazing idea with lots of benefits." I was getting those later, when I wasn't too tired to… wait, no, I figured it out already. Never mind. I wanted to be too tired to think. "Elspeth, we're heading in." 

"I shall be leaving shortly, and doubt I will be back prior to you all turning in for the night," Lady Elspeth replied. She was back to the warm smile. "So, have a pleasant afternoon and evening." Oh, Maker, she was right. Even though so much had gone on, we were barely past mid-afternoon. 

Sighing, I waved her goodbye and stumbled inside the estate, barely noticing the shocked servants except to move out of their way. And help when they dropped things. Apparently, they'd expected a rescue mission, not 'oh, hey, we escaped on our own'. Not that I blamed them. Everything logical said that shouldn't have worked, and yet it _did_. 

I opened the door to my room, intending on crashing in the bath, and had to pause. There was Zevran. On my bed. Posed rather provocatively. With no shirt and some low-riding pants. And with a rose between his teeth for some reason? 

"Very romance novel cover," I noted. With a groan, I shut the door behind me, and started taking off the armor. "Where did the rose even come from?" 

"The gardens, of course," Zevran laughed. Instantly, he appeared at my side, handing the armor so that I could just relax. "I noticed the baths being prepared, and I could not think of another reason." He smirked. "I thought you could use something pleasing to look at." 

"Yes, yes, very pleasing, almost as much as that tub of warm water." 

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Ah, my poor fragile heart." Ha! "Mmm, it seems some hours in the place didn't mess with you too much." 

"My sense of time is so screwed up right now." So, I was just going to focus on the future. Two days until the Landsmeet. Two days until we're done with Loghain forever. "Ugh, I am _stiff_ …" 

"How about I give you a lovely massage?" His smile was kind, and I noticed at last how he clung a little. He might be joking, but he had been scared. "I have these lovely oils." 

"Sure, sounds good." I smiled back. "I'm sorry." 

"Oh, we'll work on suitable ways to apologize after your bath, massage, and nap." He went back to helping me get the armor off. "Especially after your nap." 

"I'm going to pass out in the tub, likely." 

"I'll drag you out before you prune into an old man." Ha… "Welcome back, Aiden." 

"Thanks, Zevran." 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I love the 'Captured' Quest because of just how _ridiculous_ it can get. I prefer the 'escape on own', but _wow_ , can some of the stories the companions concoct get hilarious. Yes, the persuasion route is available to both male and female Wardens, and both involve seduction. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Nuada in Denerim 


	103. Chapter 91) Trials

Chapter 91) Trials 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_"Oh, Fergus, who is this?" The voice was polite, controlled, and authoritative. I knew to smile and nod even before I turned around to look at the blonde woman standing next to my brother. "He's adorable!" she laughed, face and tone softening with her smile. "So?"_

_"This is my adorable little brother, Nuada," Fergus answered, beckoning me over. I went to his side without a word and a bright smile. "No, you can't have him."_

_"But he's adorable, and it's not fair that you have two cute siblings, while I have none." She crouched a little, looking me in the face. "My name is Anora, Nuada."_

_"It's nice to meet you," I replied. I made a split second decision, and I made my smile extra-big. "I'd love a big sister, though, so can I call you that?"_

_"…I'd love it!" she laughed again, face lighting up with a smile. I would learn later that she was craft, clever, prideful, and everything. But I would never forget how much she appreciated the words, and I doubted she would ever forget I said them either._

* * *

"Enchantment!" If there was one thing I needed after dealing with Howe and Drakon, it was talking with a very adorable, very enthusiastic boy. "Enchantment?" 

"Yes, thank you for the enchantements, Sandal," I replied, ruffling his hair. He laughed, and grinned up at me. "Thank you also, Bodhan, for taking on last minute work. I know you're prepping to leave for the Marches." 

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Bodhan reassured. He gave me a warm smile as he finished writing down everything. "Now, you want this delivered to the Cousland Estate, you said?" 

"Yes, I want it there in case someone tries to break into Arl Eamon's estate." I straightened, biting back a groan. My back ached from the fight with Howe, and then lying there on the floor at Drakon to get as much information as possible. "I've arranged for Wade to send the pieces here." 

"Won't be trouble at all. Happens a lot." I wasn't surprised. Wade was the best smith in all of Fereldan, and Bodhan's son, Sandal, was the best enchanter I have _ever_ encountered. Those who could afford getting both of them _did_. "You okay, though, my lord?" Bodhan looked at me worriedly. "Pardon my manners, but you look exhausted." 

"It's been a long few days." I was also tired from having to think _incredibly_ quickly. I hadn't planned on Aiden and I escaping Drakon quite that way; I had a different sort of plan in mind and feigned confidence to help Aiden feel more stable as I went along. "It's been a very long few days." I still couldn't believe it worked as well as it did. Clearly, Loghain and Howe had far less control over things than they liked to portray. 

"There's a rumor Howe is dead." Bodhan's words made me flinch. "Though, apparently, they're still looking for his head." That… that was darkly amusing. "Does that cheer you up?" 

"You would think it would." I sighed. But it didn't. It just didn't. "But, sadly, it just plays into my exhaustion." 

"Go do something invigorating, my lord." Bodhan adopted a comically stern look. "That's an order." 

The concern made me laugh, and I could feel myself relax. "I'll try." I shook my head. "I'll see you two later, okay?" 

"Sounds good, my lord." Bodhan smiled and turned to his son. "Sandal, say goodbye to the nice man." 

"Byebye!" Sandal laughed, coming over to give me a hug too. I hugged him back, and couldn't help but smile. Yes, being around him was definitely what I had needed, and I hadn't even known it. "Enchantment!" 

Still in a good mood, I left their stall and walked into the market crowd, drawing my hood up to hide my face. I tensed up again, focused on sounds to account for my blind side, and the reduced peripheral vision thanks to the hood. Whispers and laughs followed me as I walked, and I focused on rumors. They were as they were before, though. The people were firmly behind us in terms of opposing Loghain, but were split in all sorts of directions on who should rule. The three choices, to them, were Alistair, Anora, or Alistair _and_ Anora. 

The thought depressed me, and not just because I had been hoping that Elspeth and Alistair might be able to awkwardly court. The whispers also reminded me of one big reason I had chosen to go out now, a reason I knew Aiden hadn't seen, but Elspeth had. I was avoiding Anora. 

It was hard to admit. It was horribly hard to admit, and it hurt and ached. I couldn't figure out how to deny the pain like I used to, so instead, I ran. 

I didn't know how to react. So, I didn't want to be around her. It was horrible and selfish, but I couldn't do it. She'd know something was wrong. Even worse, she would know something was wrong, and automatically seek to protect herself. 

It was hard to believe that our friendship would turn out like this. It was hard to believe that I would be _afraid_ to spend time with my 'big sister'. But I suppose that was just how things went. I hoped… I could find the courage to talk to her again, as I used to. But right now, I was almost certain I wouldn't be able to. 

"My lord!" Startled, I glanced down as saw a messenger boy looking right at me. "Message for you!" he informed me brightly. He shoved a piece of paper into my hand, and took off, leaving me a bit confused. 

The feeling only deepened when I saw the note simply said to head towards one of the private rooms in the Gnawed Noble Tavern. Checking to make sure I had my sword on my hip, I made my way over, and slipped past the crowd. I could see Uncle Leonas sitting and talking to Alfstanna, and noted Elspeth wasn't with them yet. With luck, I would be in and out before she had to be, and then I wouldn't get in the way. 

Still, when I made it to the room, I could only stop and stare. Of all the things I had expected, Ignacio casually leaning against the wall, contract scrolls on the table next to him, had _not_ been it. 

"Ignacio, what in flames?" I sighed, rubbing my temples. I had a headache. "Just write the note in Antivan next time, won't you?" 

"Now why would I miss seeing you not in complete command of a situation?" Ignacio joked. His smile, though, was sympathetic. "I talked to Lady Elspeth before, and I think I have some things that might assist." 

"How much?" 

"You will do some jobs for the Crows." He wanted me to do what? "Fereldan is a busy place." He shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Blight, Civil War, mayhem… lots of people not getting along…" Thus, old grudges came to light, and we had assassins all over the place. "We're a little short-staffed, shall we say?" 

"Bloody flames, Ignacio." I groaned. "Bloody freaking…" 

"It does you good to be caught off-guard. Keeps you from getting arrogant." 

"Does a master still have the contract?" 

"Of course, but we know what can happen if he asks for help." I would take silence. I would enjoy silence. "So?" 

"Is this revenge for something?" 

"The cheese incident." …I remembered that. That _had_ been my fault. "Well?" 

"Fine, fine." My friends were going to kill me for this. 

* * *

So, I had to deal with some people in the Pearl, who apparently were klling Warden sympathizers. Then I had to kill some mercenaries camped outside the city, and _then_ a dwarven ambassador who was providing dealings without sanction of the 'new king' or something. I tried not to think about it. For now, I was just going through the next task: a supposedly simple exchange, a child for money. The whole idea was ridiculous to me. 

If there was one thing I knew this all was doing, it was that it gave me _fantastic_ insight into the mind of an assassin, and I sincerely wondered how Zevran and Leliana were as sane as they were. 

"So, what's the plan again?" I asked softly as we walked up. I knew the set up, of course. We were the father's 'retainers' here with the money in exchange for the boy. I wanted confirmation of _my_ job in this. 

"You're to kill the captain," one of the Crows hissed. I could tell he didn't like having to deal with an 'outsider'. "Quick and easy. Assassinations should not be drawn out battles." I was also fairly certain assassinations shouldn't be committed in broad daylight, but we were clearly breaking _that_ rule. "Here they are." 

"It's so nice to see him _finally_ be cooperative," the captain sneered as we walked up. There was no sign of the boy, but there _were_ signs that the captain had brought 'friends' armed to the teeth. This was definitely going to be _absolutely_ peaceful. "The regent will be pleased." Now, was this actually Loghain or some plot Howe set up with or without Loghain's knowledge that the captain was continuing out? I hoped the latter; I suspected the former. "The money?" 

"P-please, give us our little master first?" the other Crow I traveled with whimpered. They played the part of a nervous servant well. "A-at least let us see him? He must be so frightened…" 

"Money first, boy second." Even a child knew to not do that. What would stop them from demanding more money? "Do so, or your little master will be missing a few fingers and toes." …It was hard to stomach that Loghain let people like him hold power. But, then again, he let _Howe_ hold power. 

"B-but…!" The half-sob was impressive. It was clear that _this_ Crow had specialized in during his training. "Please, let us see him!" 

"Money. First." I wondered if the captain was going to take the money and run. It would make sense. "Now." 

The first Crow nudged my leg, and I glanced over. He nodded, and I knew what that meant. It was time. 

So, I drew my sword and lunged. The captain barely managed to block it, but I leaned into the blow, having the advantage. After all, I had a better stance and, perhaps more importantly, the 'strong' part of my sword was against the 'weak' part of his. So, I did manage to push him off balance. It did not, however, mean that I didn't almost lose my other eye because I had been too stupid and arrogant to remember that a blade lock really didn't give you a chance to guard against a surprise attack. I was lucky he didn't headbutt me or go for a kick to the groin. 

Regardless, though, I had another cut on my face, and I knew Layla was going to fuss. You would think that losing _one_ eye would knock the arrogance out of me, especially considering the length of the scar I had, but it seemed that the recent successes just made me drop my guard and almost lose the other one. I was _amazing_ sometimes. 

The captain lunged, but I parried the blow, snaking my sword up and around to catch him in the shoulder. I heard the sounds of fighting around me, and knew the other two Crows were taking care of the others. I just had to focus on _my_ job in this. 

So, I dodged the next wild swing from the captain and, noting the armor, jumped up so that I could strike through a gap in the armor, and get a straight shot to the heart. It was a trick I learned from Duke Gaspard in Orlais, and it proved as effective now as it did on that servant he killed to show me. 

I still had nightmares of that 'fight'. But if it could save a little boy, I think I might eventually become okay with it. 

When the captain fell, dead within a few moments, the fighting stopped, the rest fleeing. I glanced around with a small frown. Where was…? 

"Nice trick," one of the Crows praised. He was the one who had not been acting before, and by the blood splattering his clothes, I guessed he was the 'fighter' of the two. It would make sense. An actor could distract; a fighter could kill. "Where did you learn it?" 

"Where else does one learn to kill a person?" I retorted easily. I felt horrendously tired now. "I learned it in Orlais, land of the most _active_ assassins." I would forever maintain that Shadows of the Empire were the least deadly thing about Orlais though. "So…" I glanced around again, noting that the two Crows were calm, and there was still no sign of the boy. "Please tell me this was just cleaning up loose ends." 

"It was." The answer came from Ignacio as he walked up. The two Crows bowed to him, but I just gave him a look. "Some 'friends' absconded with the boy and returned him to his father," Ignacio continued, speaking in Antivan now. I wouldn't even try to ask why he was out here. "His very important father." This better help Elspeth then. "This was the other requirement. Captain Chase there is very dead now." Why, yes, people tended to die when you removed the heart's ability to beat through stabbing. 

"Anything else, then?" I asked. I rolled my shoulders. "I need to pick up some things, if not." Then I think I was going to take a very long nap. I was going to take a very, very long nap. 

"No, that was the last of the things." Ignacio smiled. "My superiors want me to convey their thanks, and their disappointment they did not take the chance to snag you when they had it." 

"Father would have killed you all, and you know it." In fact, he almost did when the Crows _did_ get a little too close to Elspeth and me for his liking. 

"Yes, that was what stopped us back then." He shrugged. "Regardless, thank you for your time, Lord Nuada. Do note that if you are in need of assistance, the Crows are always willing to hear your contracts." 

"I'm sure." I sighed. "You like the coin." 

"And the interesting targets Couslands bring us." That was true. "Pleasant day to you." 

"Safe travels to you, Ignacio." I'd better get the cuts and bruises I had treated. If the others found out, they would seriously kill me. 

I should go get my bribes, I mean gifts, just in case. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Trial of the Crows is a fun little sidequest. Very fun. Also, have a Bodhan and Sandal. Way back in Nuada's first chapter, Elspeth and Nuada mention already knowing Ignacio, and this is why. Nuada's the only one stupid enough to go through with it! (If you're curious as to how he killed the captain… watch a clip of Achilles killing someone in the movie Troy. I was forced to watch it prior to writing this; might as well have some fun.) 
> 
> You learn about the assassins of the Orlesian royal family through the codex entry of one armor you can get in Origins: Shadow of the Empire. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Cleon 


	104. Chapter 92) Something Wicked

Chapter 92) Something Wicked 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"You see, Cleon?" Merrill's enthusiastic flailing was adorable, so much so that I chose to not point out that she had started in the middle of a conversation again. So, no, I didn't see. "Demons are attracted to places of death and doom because the Veil is thinner in those places, and they are drawn to the strong emotions the dying have!"_

_"Merrill, is that really something you should be enthusiastic about?" I asked dryly, leaning back against the aravel. "It sounds like you're happy about death?"_

_"Oh, well, no." She slumped a little. "No, but I do wonder if there are 'safer' ways to harness that power? Blood magic isn't evil, just… um…"_

_"Misunderstood?"_

_"I was thinking 'used for bad things', but that works." She smiled sweetly. "I want to work with this sort of emotion. Think of what we could learn from the dead!"_

_"Let's avoid the ghosts for now."_

_"Aw, you're no fun."_

* * *

After checking on everyone's health, and actually tending to the sick people, Valendrian had a request for us. Apparently, the orphanage had been one of the worst struck during the 'purge' Howe ordered. Everyone in there died, from the children to the workers. But, recently, there had been some strange noises, making him wonder if, perhaps, there was a survivor who was still trapped, afraid of coming out. Thus, he asked us to investigate. 

It took two steps for the former templar, the mage, and the hunter with enough of a magical gift to sense off things to figure out what the noises were. Ghosts and demons. Which means I was, once again, in a situation where my traveling companions were reacting to things that I didn't even know existed. It was like Hespith all over again. Except with more ghosts. 

'So, over here, we have a whimpering ghost child, running from the scary armed people,' Alistair signed, looking remarkably cheerful. I knew he was using it as a shield. The smell of the corpses was _nauseating_ , and this was after the elves had done their best to clean out the place. Not to mention the blood on the walls, dried all the way up to the _ceiling._ I had a feeling some of the children here died from being beaten with blunt objects. 'So, let's see what is behind door number one!' Definitely a shield. 

Well, door number one revealed a room that literally sparked as we walked past. We had to duck under objects as they suddenly came our way. Random books and shards of ceramic pots. But we made it through easily, even if I ended up with a bruised arm because I couldn't duck the one that came behind me. 

'Do you hear me, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem?' Oh, great. We were back to creepy nursery rhymes. 'I'm a falling, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem, today.' I really had to fight off the urge to sigh. 'I'm a maiden, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem.' This was a rhyme that made no sense. 'But I'm dying, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem, in pain.' …Well, that was a cheery way to end it. 

'How lovely,' I signed, feeling exasperated. We were walking through the halls, and I was just done with the whole thing already. 'So, what is that?' I pointed up ahead, to where a child passed us. 'Besides another ghost.' 

'Well we have a child screaming 'no' as he runs,' Alistair signed, also explaining why he and Layla looked ready to break into tears. I didn't blame them. 'Okay, if I get made king, the first thing I'm going to do is get someone in the Alienage to advise me, because _damn this to the Void_.' Oh, good job, world! You made Alistair lose his temper! 

Another room and suddenly we were wrapped in flames. But they were strangely cool to the touch. 'It is an echo,' Layla signed. She looked so tired. 'They must have set the place aflame, to make sure there were few survivors.' She pointed to something in the flames. 'What is…?' 

'A woman laughing maniacally about all the red.' Oh, so that was what was going on? 'And declaring that she can't die.' Well, clearly, that wasn't true. 'Layla, please tell me I am imagining the rips in her skirt.' 

'Do you want me to lie?' Oh. Lovely. 

'Complete reworking of the guards too. That is a thing that needs to be done.' The flames cleared, and we made ourselves keep going forward. 

Outside the room, we were rewarded with another child's ghost. Or was this the _same_ child, over and over again. 'One, two, Maric's run through.' WELL, THAT WAS A LOVELY START TO A NURSERY RHYME. 'Three, four, the kingdom's at war.' Well, that was… sort of true. 'Eight, nine, and now you die!' What happened to five, six, and seven? 'It is followed by a weeping sort of laughter.' I looked up at Layla's face, and she shook her head. 'They are heading into that room…' 

The three of us exchanged grim looks before following. Even then, we had to stop and stare as we entered that large room, hiding in the back. Corpses. Some rotted, but still showing their injuries. Others charred. This was where they had tried to hide. This was where the guards had slaughtered most of them. The floor was sticky from all the blood. 

Oh, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was _all the ghosts_. Creators have mercy… Falon'din, have mercy… _they were still trapped here_. 

'The children are asking what's going on,' Alistair signed. Layla had covered her face to hide her tears. 'The adults are trying to soothe them, or beg the guards to leave the children alone.' He pointed to one in the corner before signing what I thought were the child's last words. 'Andraste, I don't want to go yet… please…' A child was saying this? 'It's so cold now… so cold…' Alistair's hands fell briefly, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do. 'There are a lot of screams.' 

'A mage.' Layla's crisp signs made both of us start. 'There was a child with magic here,' she signed, eyes certain even as she still cried. 'It's like Connor again. He ripped it open to try and save everyone.' Oh… 'It must be the boy we saw running through, singing the nursery rhymes. He's still trying to protect them, and he doesn't realize the truth.' 

'So, we are looking for a demon.' So, it seemed. I glanced around, wrinkling my nose as I caught the scent of fresh fire and smoke. 'I think Cleon found it.' 

'Rage demon,' I signed. It wasn't too shocking. There had to be a _lot_ of anger here. 'Oh, look, there it is.' It lifted itself right out of the floor. 

Of course, Alistair immediately used a templar trick to clear the place of magic, followed by Layla freezing it. I quickly lunged forward and shattered it and as the ice crystals rained down, the ghosts disappeared. 

But the general feel of the air didn't die. It would probably never die. The bodies… the blood… all of it was a testament to just how low some shemlen thought of elves. 

When one group of people thought themselves superior, blood and chaos followed their every action. I could see that evidence with my own eyes, and never felt older and sadder. 

* * *

When we returned, the three of us could only stop and stare. Because _Aiden_ was there to greet us. Oh, Mythal, ma serranas. After what happened in the orphanage, we needed the good news. 

'Before you ask, Lord Nuada is very crafty,' Aiden signed, smiling. His hair was damp, and he smelled like soap, so I think he just got out of a bath. Then again, he also smelled of that lavender oil Zevran really liked. 'We've been out for a while. How was the Alienage?' 

'All is well, now,' I signed back, smiling in relief. They were okay. That was what mattered. All of us were still okay. 'We might have gotten a little dramatic?' 

'Oh, yes, I might have heard about the _port freezing_.' He signed the words twice, and combined with his exasperated look, I knew we were in for some trouble. 'Really, you three?' 

'Hey, it was cool!' 

'I refuse to dignify that pun with a response.' What… oh, ha, I didn't even mean to do that. 'Allow me to thank you for the help, though.' The exasperation faded for simple contentment. 'How was everyone?' 

'It seems like everyone is recovering.' I hesitated before adding, 'there are a lot dead.' I couldn't bring myself to sign more, and Alistair and Layla didn't elaborate either. 

'Of course. There always are when there's a purge.' He shrugged it off too easily, in my opinion. 'We get off luckier on them. There haven't been any official ones since the Orlesian Occupation until now.' That did not make me feel better. 

'If I may?' Layla waved to make sure she had my attention before continuing, 'Where is Nuada?' she asked. Her face was a little pink under the freckles, and I was glad for the subject change. 'Is he here?' 

'Yeah, he just got back from doing something that got him injured,' Aiden signed, face distinctly unamused. Oh, what did he get involved in and how much would I want to kill him for it? 'Something involving the Antivan Crows.' …Really, Nuada? 'He is talking with Anora now.' It took me a moment to recognize the sign we had made for her name. 'I am certain he would appreciate a distraction right now, though.' 

'You sure? He could be working.' 

'When I passed by, Anora was trying to get him to promise support, and Lord Nuada was avoiding without avoiding.' Weren't they supposed to be old friends? Why jump into the politics immediately? 'I think she is well aware that she is with a group of people who do not look on her favorably, and is trying to secure protection.' 

'Meaning Nuada and Elspeth are her targets,' Alistair signed, looking exasperated. I wasn't surprised. 'Where is she?' 

'Out,' Aiden answered, shrugging. 'She is meeting with some nobles in the tavern, with Sten as her guard. She likely won't be back until late.' Meaning she was safe. 'Regardless, come inside and find something to do. No one is leaving.' 

'Wait, why?' 

'Have you forgotten? The Landsmeet is in two days.' That… was right. It was two days until the Landsmeet. Two days until what we had worked for would… we would finally take out Loghain. We would get the last of the armies. We would fight the Blight alone, from then on. 

Two days until the beginning of the end, so to speak. My, my, how ominous. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Something Wicked is a quest that involves a rather badass templar, but I excised him for convenience. It's tied to a couple of other side quests as well, but I didn't show them. The pain purpose was to highlight just how _bad_ Howe's purge of the Alienage was, as it's something that can be overlooked, or put into a simple 'tell but not shown'. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Elspeth 


	105. Interlude - Shy Chessmaster

Interlude – Shy Chessmaster 

* * *

She takes a shaky breath before nodding to herself. This is prepping for her 'battlefield', and she could not make a single mistake. This is what she must do. 

"Are you prepared?" Sten asks her quietly. She smiles and nods. It is a lie; she feels completely unprepared. She fears screwing up, and she fears making things harder for the others. "You will be fine." Sten, however, sees through her lie easily. "This is your role, and you are skilled in it." 

"Thank you," she murmurs. From him, the words are very reassuring. "Okay, here we go." One more heartbeat to gather her courage, and she walks inside the Gnawed Noble Tavern. It is loud and bright, and she wants to run all over again. There are too many people. She can feel herself draining just walking past their groups, and she wants to run and hide under her blankets. She wishes she hadn't even woken up this morning. She thinks she's going to vomit and make a huge spectacle of herself. She thinks she is just going to embarrass herself, and by proxy, the group. Perhaps she should… 

Sten's reassuringly nudges her, and she makes herself move. No matter her fears, she has a duty. She has a promise to keep. So, even though she is so certain they will think her stupid, she makes herself head to one of the back couches. 

Uncle Leonas is there, Alfstanna sitting with him already. She wishes that wasn't so; she had hoped to have a brief minute to speak with Uncle Leonas alone. But it isn't the case, and so she makes herself smile and say, "Hello, Uncle Leonas, Alfstanna." 

"Oh, it's so good to see you," Uncle Leonas greets in return. His smile is warm, and his greeting hug is even warmer. It's hard for her to trust them, given everything, but it is nice to see. "When I first heard of Highever, I feared the worst." He urges her to sit, and she does so, next to Alfstanna. Alfstanna leans over to give her a quick hug too. "But I talked to Fergus not long ago. Even Oren was saved?" 

"Yes, Ser Gilmore gave his life ensuring Oren safely made it out, and my Eoin protected him until we found him." Pain flutters in her chest, matching her rapid pulse. She misses Rory. He had helped make 'Fereldan' a home. Now, though, it feels as if 'home' had been nothing more than an illusion. "I've taken him on a few playdates." 

"And those Oren has not charmed, you have." She manages not to squeak or yelp as Sighard suddenly joins them. She had not been expecting him, had she? She couldn't remember. "Sorry to just join in," Sighard says, shrugging as he takes the seat by Uncle Leonas. "I got angry at a fellow and decided chatting with you all was preferable to breaking his nose." He nods to someone, and she glances back to see it was a bann she barely knew, one she knows is loyal to Loghain. She can easily see why Sighard might be angry. 

"How is your son?" she asks, deciding to use the unexpected appearance to begin her attack. She is to win allies, and she knows what to say in such a public place. She knows how to play the Game. She had thrived in it, even as it sickened her. Rumors were a double-edged sword, but when your opponent was someone like Loghain, they are the murdering daggers in the heart. "I visited earlier, but has his condition improved?" 

"I've physicians tending to him, and the mage you recommended, Wynne, has been doing what she can." He sighs, though, drooping. "His legs were stretched for so long that the muscles just don't seem to work anymore." 

"I am so sorry…" It's easy to look sad. She isn't friends with Oswyn, but she had always thought him a good, if silly, person. "Ah, but that does remind me…" She pulls the ring Nuada gave her out of her pocket, and passes it to Alfstanna. "There is a message, but I think you would rather ignore it and go get him, yes?" 

"You found him?!" Alfstanna yelps. All eyes turn to them, just as she had hoped, and she glances at Sten in silent question. He moves to stand a little closer behind her, still gloriously silent and, thus, unnoticeable to the nobles. It is child's play to take advantage of how nobles rarely look _up_ to anything. "Where is he? I must…!" 

"In the dungeons of the Denerim Estate," she answers, making her voice both soft and loud. She wants everyone to hear this. "I think past the torture chambers, but I am uncertain." She pretends to hesitate before adding, "you will want to bring people with strong stomachs. Nuada could not tell me much without fear of vomiting, and the Cousland estate is _filled_ with those he and Aiden managed to save." 

"It was that bad?" Uncle Leonas breaths. When she nods, she sees the righteous fury blaze in his eyes. "This is why I refuse to attend Howe's burning!" 

"No one is attending," Alfstanna sighs. She sees the sad eyes, and know Alfstanna pities Howe more than hating him, at least for now. "Is it truly right to let him go to the flames unmourned?" 

"The only thing worth mourning is that he did not die years ago!" 

"You were friends, though. Was he not your brother by marriage?" 

"The boy I knew died at White River with everyone else." Uncle Leonas is tense enough to shake. "I don't know the man my sister married. Not one bit." He sighs, slowly relaxing. "I tried to warn Bryce, but Rendon was always on his best behavior around him." 

"The snake waiting to bite the hand of the one who kept him safe," Sighard added. The words are a growl, and she glances to see they were still the focus of attention. A glance at Sten tells her all is still safe, for now. "And Loghain _promotes_ him for such a thing! What ridiculousness!" She hears the words Sighard will not say: 'this is why we do not allow commoners power'. This is the attitude Loghain was used to, and why he held no respect for the political traditions of Fereldan. It is also why Loghain had no political allies, and was stuck with those like Howe. "He's condoned torture with this!" 

"I am afraid that he apparently condoned it in other areas as well," she whispers. She makes herself look small and meek. "Nuada and Aiden were captured in the Estate, for liberating the captives." This is a falsehood; they were captured for Howe's murder. But she words it like this to make others jump to conclusions, and turn even more against her enemies. "They were taken to Fort Drakon, and the things they saw within scared and shook even Aiden, who has fought dragons, demons, and darkspawn." She knows the reason; Aiden cannot stand the color 'red' without falling into a panic. But they do not, and so, she lets their imaginations do the work for her. "Though, the fact that they escaped so easily tells us how much Loghain is really in control." She shakes her head. "Though, considering the crimes ignored in the lower market, that is probably to be expected." 

"Ignored crimes?" 

"Yes." She sighs, pressing a hand to her cheek. "Cleon, Alistair, and I even had to help out to ensure the peace." She makes certain to put Alistair's name in. It is her bait, but she smiles to let them know she will not say more. Fergus is Alistair's champion, not her, though she will admit to herself, at least, that she wishes she was. She likes being around him, and she likes it when others can see what a charming person he is. 

"Speaking of ignored crimes," Uncle Leonas begins. She tenses, already prepared. She knows what is coming. "As I understand it, Elspeth, you were _there_ at Ostagar." The room holds its breath as they realize what topic has been broached. "What is your opinion on Loghain's retreat?" 

"That… is a difficult answer," she begins. "It is _very_ difficult to say whether or not it was the correct choice. Her words are slow. This is dangerous ground, very dangerous ground. "The darkspawn were truly endless that day. I was there, and I saw how they marched over their dead. I saw the Archdemon rise up from the bloody ground. It was a battle beyond everyone's expectations." She shakes her head, thinking quickly. It does not _matter_ if it was 'right' or 'wrong'. She does not need their opinion on it. What she wants is to put a different thought in their head. She wants them to think not of whether or not the decision was correct, but of _something else_ he did that day that casts doubt on him. "But, still, it simply bothers me that he did not send a messenger to let Cailan know of the change of plans." The entire room stills. There are many arguments as to whether or not Loghain's choice that day was correct. It is possible that it will be a debate for many academics in the decades to come. But not sending a messenger puts Loghain in an ill light. _Not sending a messenger_ put all of his words to question. "The retreat was called because _I_ went down, on my own." She slumps, and it is easy to let her eyes fill with tears. "If I were a bit faster, then perhaps Cailan…" 

"You did everything you could, and more than most," Alfstanna instantly reassures, resting a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. She smiles 'bravely', and notes that many of the eavesdroppers are sympathetic. Vulnerability does that, and it works all the more when you do not have to lie about it. "Please, do not blame yourself." 

"I shall try." Her smile shakes, but she keeps in on her face. "But, truly, there is another reason why that retreat might cost us Fereldan, and it scares me." The room holds it breath for her to continue. "Most of the Wardens died, and to be truthful…" She pitches her voice so that it sounds like she is telling a secret, but can still be overheard by anyone willing to listen. "To be truthful, an Archdemon can _only_ be killed by a Warden. History tells us this to be so. Without them, we cannot kill the Archdemon. We _cannot_ save Fereldan." 

"First he sends no messenger, and then in his ignorance, nearly condemns the very country he claims to be saving?" Alfstanna scoffs, and the mood of the room is uneasy. Even those who support Loghain must admit how badly he screwed up in this. "All because of an imaginary Orlesian threat?!" She can her Alfstanna grind her teeth. "My bannorn is _drowning_ in refugees because of him!" 

"I spoke to Arl Wulff earlier." She smiles, steering the conversation to 'safer waters'. "His grandchild and Oren had a lot of fun playing." 

"I'm sure they did!" The mood of the room lightens, and she can see the other groupings beginning to talk, to argue. This is what she wanted to reveal, in a public place. Here is where most nobles will condemn Loghain. Those here will broach the topic with those who are not, at dinners, at parties. "Oh, Elspeth, are you attending the ball tonight?" 

"I am." She makes her smile warm, as if she is looking forward to it. Truthfully, she would rather change into her nightclothes and not move for the rest of the day. "I simply could not refuse a beautiful invitation." She glances back as she notices Sten shift. He nods to the people in shadows creeping closer to them. Well, here came trouble. "Ah, my pardon." She reaches down and snags a knife from the table. "It seems I have attracted some unwanted attention." 

The would-be assassins leap, ready to strike, but she uses a trick Leliana taught her to throw the knife into one's throat, ducking and using a throw Oghren taught her to avoid a second. 

Sten flies into motion, easily blocking and striking, letting the blood and body parts fly. He tosses her a sword so that she can defend herself, and she thinks of what Alistair taught her as she parries and stabs. A sword is heavier than a dagger, and it is not comfortable like a bow, but she knows enough to fight off assassins without breaking her wrist, which is far more than she knew when Highever fell. 

When the assassins all die, she looks around the room. She is bloodstained, holding a sword dripping with even more blood, but there is a question she _must_ ask. "Is everyone okay?" she calls, worried that someone was injured during the fighting. Instead, however, the room stares, and she has to fight off the urge to squirm. She knows she must look like a mess. It is a horrible impression, and she worries it undoes all the work she did before. 

Laughter and clapping, however, makes her thoughts stop, and she turns to see someone walking up. "Now _that_ was good sport!" the woman laughs, still clapping. "Well done, well done, my lady and ser bodyguard!" She smiles shyly, ducking her head. "Come, let's get you cleaned up in the back. Send for a change of clothes." 

"Thank you." She curtsies, to be polite, and she notices many watching _her_ more closely than she would expect. She could only hope she did a good job earlier. 

She smiles regretfully at her group, before heading to the back to get the blood out of her hair, and to find a change of clothes, with Sten guarding her. She would finish up here, and then prepare for the ball, with Leliana and Zevran at her sides. 

This is her role, her duty, and Maker help anyone caught in the crossfire. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So, this is the last of the 'companion' interludes, and the third-to-last interlude overall. Have insight into Elspeth's head. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Day before the Landsmeet with Layla (Landsmeet begins in two chapters) 


	106. Chapter 93) Pause

Chapter 93) Pause 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"Layla, over here!" Anders laughed, waving me over to the group. "We're taking a break from lessons, so stop reading!" When I did not do so, he rolled his eyes and came over, to pick me up._

_"Anders!" I yelped, struggling. It did not matter much, though. Anders was much taller, and stronger, than me. "I need to study!"_

_"You need to pause your brain and relax~" He plopped me down on a cushion, and sat behind me, carefully brushing and braiding my hair. "Haha, now I get to steal Neria's job!"_

_"I am not defending you!"_

* * *

"Elspeth, easy, you're going to be fine," Leliana reassured. What had started as simply Elspeth going through her arguments for the Landsmeet had turned into Elspeth outright panicking, and Leliana doing her best to calm her down. When it did not work, she dragged Wynne, myself, and Shale into helping. Though I was curious as to what to do? "Oh dear…" 

"Elspeth, remember to breath," Wynne encouraged. Wynne was a little better at this, but I think it just had to do with experience. "You will not be alone. There is nothing to be afraid of." Elspeth's response was to give her the drollest look I had ever seen, more apparent because she was normally so stoic. 

"If they truly bother you, it can just crush their skulls and watch the blood fountain up." Shale! "That is appropriately girly enough for this country, yes?" Shale continued with a shrug, stone creaking with the motion. "Or we can tell them to settle it with arm-wrestling." 

"Who would be our champion?" 

"Me, of course." That got Elspeth breathlessly laughing, and, slowly, she seemed to calm dawn. "Well, what do you know? I helped." 

"Yes, you did." Wynne carefully stroked Elspeth's hair as Elspeth slumped, looking frustrated. "What triggered the panic attack?" 

"I was having her imagine standing in the room," Leliana answered. She sighed, shoulders drooping with guilt. "I thought it would help her get in the mindset." It seemed, instead, to get her to nearly hyperventilate and faint. "Maybe I should have had her pretend it was the Orlesian court?" 

"Have mercy," Elspeth whispered. She looked distinctly pale, so I passed her some water I had on hand. "Thank you." She sipped it slowly, looking as if she might be ill at any moment. "Oh, I can't do this." 

"Yes, you can. You did wonderfully at the ball last night." Leliana smiled. "We could have Zevran whisper Antivan jokes in your ear again, though." 

"That might make them think I am mad!" Still, Elspeth managed a smile. "Listen to me complain; Layla has had it far worse." 

"Many would argue that I have had it 'easy'," I pointed out. I made sure to pout, just to emphasize my words. "After all, when it comes down to it, I just went from 'sheltered' to 'not-sheltered'. I have few scars, I still retain all the senses I was born with, and I have no crippling traumas." I just broke and remade myself, the same as everyone else. "Besides, you couldn't pay me to speak in front of these people. I'm quite content in being the neutral Warden." It had been some time since I could be. In fact, had I ever? "Besides, isn't this the first time you've really spoken publically?" Elspeth's whimper was all the answer I needed. "I think we need lots of jokes and gossips." 

"So, we shove Oghren there first and get it to challenge everyone to a drinking contest," Shale _deadpanned_. The whole room burst into laughter, unable to help it. "Then, even when he loses, everyone will be too drunk to listen. It wins." 

Leliana retorted with something outrageous, but I shifted back out of the conversation, mostly because I felt… it was not for me? I had no idea how to help Elspeth with this, and more importantly, I had to prepare myself. After the Landsmeet, we _really_ would have our work cut out for us. 

My hand fell on something, and I peered at it curiously. It was a calender, one of those that flipped so that you could easily keep track of how much time had passed. Curious, I found the day marked 'today', or rather, the day before the one marked 'Landsmeet', and counted back until the date of my Harrowing. But when I found it, I had to count again. Then, I counted one more time, unable to believe it. 

"…One hundred days…" Everyone paused and looked at me, but I could only stare at the calendar, counting yet again. "It has been… one hundred days…" I whispered. It had been one hundred days since my Harrowing. It had only been that long. It had only been a little over three months since _my Harrowing_. So much had happened. So much was still going to happen. But it had all been just one hundred days? "My pardon, I need to get some air." I stood up abruptly and left, feeling my hands shake. 

It was no wonder Loghain had not expected us to be different. How did one go through so many lifetimes in so short of a time? 

* * *

"If it's only been one hundred days for you, Mistress Layla, then it's been even less for us." Aiden's words were soft, and almost hesitant. He, Nuada, Cleon, and I were in a side room, leaning over a map. "How little, though?" he murmured, frowning slightly. "Anyone have ideas?" 

"Assuming Uncle Duncan took a fairly direct route," Nuada mused, tracing a path from the Tower to the Brecilian Forest. "I would guess… hmm… I would guess three or four days of travel here." He glanced at me, but I shrugged. It was hard to remember. I had been so focused on how much I hated the world outside the Tower. 

'Plus one day of staying the night,' Cleon signed. That was right. Commander Duncan and I found him, and stayed the night. At the time, I had just been glad to be traveling with someone else. 'So, for me, it has been ninety-five, ninety-six days.' 

"You all went to Denerim from there, yes?" Nuada traced out another path. "Do you remember how long?" 

'Four days, and Aiden left with us the day we arrived.' 

"So, for me, it has been ninety-one, ninety-two days," Aiden whispered. He took over tracing, from Denerim to Highever. "This was two or three days. Highever fell the same night." 

"So, for me, it has been eighty-eight, eighty-nine, or ninety days," Nuada whispered. His hand shook slightly as he looked over the map, tracing the path from Highever to Ostagar. "Yes, that makes sense. I found the date for Ostagar recently. It has been, approximately, eighty days since then." He tapped the spot marked 'Lothering' on the map. "Based on rumors, we can confirm that it's been about seventy-two days since we were in Lothering, where we took up the task." This all just felt surreal. "Anyone else feel like they're too old?" Aiden, Cleon, and I immediately nodded. "Oh, good, it isn't just me." 

"Um… my lords, my lady?" A servant knocked on the door and poked their head in. "We… have a visitor?" they said. All four of us glanced at each other in confusion, Cleon even silently asking if we had translated the words correctly. "An armed visitor." I would say 'assassin', but that would be… well, Zevran did it. "Ser Cauthrien." That was… 

"Loghain's right hand," Aiden murmured. He sighed, closing his eyes. "Understood. We'll deal with it." The servant nodded and bolted, glad to give the burden to someone else. "What is she even doing here?" 

"She's probably here to challenge Alistair and kill or cripple him so that he can't show up tomorrow," Nuada answered easily. He seemed completely relaxed as he straightened with a stretch. "I'll let him know, and then go take a nap." …Pardon? 

"Lord Nuada?" 

"I have complete faith in Alistair to think of something and, honestly, if he's to be king, we can't solve _everything_." Nuada shrugged. "So, I'm going to nap. You can watch if you're curious." He walked away. He actually walked away. I glowered at his back, annoyed. Oh, we were going to have _words_ about his later! 

'I suppose we had better go get somewhere with a good view?' Cleon signed. I gave _him_ an incredulous look. 'Look, if things get bad, we can go kill her and then yell at Nuada for being an idiot.' I wanted to do that now. 'But, let's see what happens. Everyone else has little projects and plans we can't help with.' 

Sighing, and reluctantly admitting defeat, I stood up without a word, and headed for one of the balconies overlooking the courtyard. Cleon and Aiden followed, also quiet, and the three of us just clustered on the railing, looking down at the agitated, and very armed, woman standing there, glaring at everything. This was so bizarre. Why were we dealing with this? Could we not just…? 

…When did I become so bloody-minded? When did I get so used to violence that it was not only 'a solution', but the first one I thought of? …I needed time away from fighting. 

The front door opening dragged me out of my thoughts, and Alistair, looking like he thought _someone_ was insane, stepped out and walked down the steps. "Um… hi, there?" he called. For some reason, he had two wooden polearms in hand. "Ser Cauthrien, right?" Ser Cauthrien made to retort, but he just tossed the polearm towards her. "Here, we can spar with these. That's why you're here, right? To fight and hopefully kill the threat to your lord?" He shrugged as she stared. "But, see, I don't want to die? I've kind of gone through too much. And even if I hate Loghain, I don't really hate you, so I don't see a point to fighting?" 

"If… if you were even remotely worthy of being called Maric's son, you would've been in the Landsmeet from the start!" Ser Cauthrien snapped. It took me a second to translate the words for Cleon, because they had hurt _me_. Alistair, though, showed no reaction. "You and yours have torn Fereldan apart against the very man who ensured you could be born into freedom!" In fact, he remained completely silent, and just… let her ramble. "If you're gone, if you never existed, then this could have been put to rest long ago!" 

"Is that so?" 

"Everyone was supposed to rally to Loghain to combat the threat! Without having to turn to Orlais for help!" She shook her head. "He never wanted Civil War, but with you lot harrying him on every side…!" Her voice cracked. "You all forced him…" 

"Do you feel better?" Alistair still remained so calm, even as she shook her head again, this time more violently. "Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have been born. I'm sure a lot of people would have had it easier." Alistair… "But, hey, I am here, and what do you know? I've got some people who like me, and think I can be better than I am. Not sure if they're right, even now, but I'd like to prove them right. Because they're awesome people." He shrugged. "You can, of course, go back to insulting me. But, I assure you, Morrigan has said _much_ worse." A bit of movement caught my attention, and I realized the others were on the other balcony, watching. The movement had been Morrigan biting back a bit of laughter. "So, yeah." He twirled the polearm once and settled into a stance. "Let's spar a bit, Ser Cauthrien. You can bleed off some of that frustration, and I can get some practice with this." 

"You can't just-!" 

"I refuse to die, and I do not agree with you. Nothing you can say or do will change my mind. Loghain's action, for _whatever_ reason, killed the only family that welcomed me, loved me, and his continued actions threatens the family and friends that I have gathered since. He made his choices, and I disagree." Alistair still remained so calm, for some reason. I saw Sten nod approving across the way, and caught Oghren nudging Wynne, like he was laughing at an old joke. "I'm trying to be an adult over this, though. As much as a twenty-year-old _can_ be an adult. I'm not convinced people my age should be considered that." When you thought about it, it really was too young for all of this. _We_ were still far too young for all of this. "But even if you did kill me, I know Elspeth and Nuada will defeat Loghain. His fall is certain, because my friends are awesome." He smiled. "But, hey, you can still get your fight. Maybe I'll surprise you." 

Her only response was to lunge, noticeably throwing away her actual weapon to use the polearm. Alistair parried and retaliated, and the two just… sparred in the courtyard. 

The others, across the way, left soon afterwards, apparently content that things would not turn into a fight to the death. Aiden and Cleon watched for a while before leaving to tend to other things. I remained, mostly just to keep an eye on injuries, and the gauge exhaustion. 

The Landsmeet was tomorrow. It would not be good if we were too tired to stand. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: The amount of time is a _lot_ of assumptions, based on some in-game dialogue, the known timeline, and some guesstimating of distances based on maps (as well as adjusting differences between travel by foot and travel by horse). As well as assuming that the Wardens would be moving at the 'fastest possible pace' due to the very real threat looming over them. When I added it all up, it ended up that it was 'one hundred days', at this point in the story, since the _start_ of all of this, Layla's Harrowing. It really puts a lot of things in perspective when you realize it's not even been four months. 
> 
> In Game, Cauthrien bars your way to the Landsmeet, and the Warden either convinces her to stand aside or kills her. I like, however, Alistair dealing with her, rather than the Warden. Alistair using a polearm is based, a bit, on some party banter Oghren has with Wynne, which is why he's nudging her in the scene. Sten approves, for once, because Alistair is not running from his 'role'. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Landsmeet part one, with Aiden 


	107. Chapter 94) Fall

Chapter 94) Fall 

* * *

_Laughter caught my ear, and I glanced up tentatively, wondering what was going on. I was in the palace, running an errand, and desperately trying to not get caught. There was a noble in residence that had a taste for young elf boys, and I might be young 'enough' for him if he caught me._

_But still, the laughter was warm, so I found myself following the sound. I was startled to see it was King Maric and Teryn Loghain, laughing hard enough to cry._

_"Maker, the poor girl was just so horrified!" King Maric managed through the guffawing. Neither of them could stand because they were laughing so much. "What else was I supposed to do?"_

_"Did you have to deadpan that you preferred red shirts to white?" Teyrn Loghain replied. "It's not even red! It was more of a maroon stain, thanks to the wine!"_

_"First thing I thought of, but Maker, the looks on everyone's faces!"_

_I slipped away then, feeling a little happier about the world. I wondered if I would have friendships like that. That might be nice._

* * *

It was amazing how _quiet_ things were in the morning. There was not one bit of strangeness, not one assassination attempt. We just, simply, got dressed, polished our weapons and armor before putting them on, did final checks on silly things like hair and make-up, and then… we headed for the Landsmeet. 

We lingered outside the main door, and I knew the reason why. Lady Elspeth was taking that extra second to gather her courage. We didn't mind the wait, of course. It gave us extra chances to triple check who was going to be signing for Cleon so he could keep up: Morrigan. 

Finally, though, Lady Elspeth glanced at us worriedly, uncertain she could do this. But I think even Shale managed a smile for her, so her gaze hardened and she looked back to the door. Then, with one final breath for courage, she pushed it open and we walked inside the main hall, already teeming with nobles. 

"My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet!" Arl Eamon boomed as we walked in. It wasn't a coincidence. This was set up in advance. It was to start everyone off-balanced, by hiding our arrival. From there, it would be easy to pick up the momentum. "Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our _traditions_ , out of paranoia!" He gestured grandly, taking advantage of being on the second floor of the room to hold everyone's attention. "He places us on this destructive path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands?" He scoffed. "Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?" There were cheers as Eamon stepped back, a clear sign that his words struck a chord. 

"A fine _performance_ , Eamon." However, this was a debate. There were rebuttals. Loghain, on the floor, _had_ to argue in his defense. No one else would. "But I won't be taken in by it," he replied, standing tall. I saw the people clear the area, recognizing that the 'main show' of the debate was about to begin. "You would put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it." That was why _Fergus_ was chosen to be Alistair's champion at the balls, not Eamon. Fergus would not seem quite as power-hungry. "The better question is, of course, who will pull the strings? It's clear to anyone who the real power behind your campaign is." 

"Loghain, such barbed words are unsuited to simple discussion," Lady Elspeth chided, stepping forward. The crowd instantly whispered excitedly. This was the first time Lady Elspeth had _ever_ openly spoken in a Landsmeet, and the nobles held their breath in anticipation. She made a good impression at the balls, and she made a better one now, armored and armed with bow and sword. A bow Loghain had given her, and Maric's own sword, at that. "I am your opponent, Loghain." She stopped at the 'proper' distance, and held her head up high. I saw her glance to the side nervously, though, and I caught her eye to smile reassuringly. "You may begin when ready." That was a show of confidence. She was _confident_ that she could find a rebuttal to anything Loghain started with, and so she gave him the first 'move'. White to her black, when she already had the path to 'checkmate' in her head. 

"Well, then tell us, Elspeth," Loghain began. I could see his hands shake, though, as he walked, talking as much with his hands as his voice. "How _will_ the Orlesians take our nation from us again?" This again?! "Will the deign to send their troops or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince?" 

"Loghain, you _are_ aware that Fereldan is no longer a barely held together country of squabbling chieftains that originally fell to Orlais's troops over a century ago, yes?" Lady Elspeth remained calm and poised, simply shaking her head. "That is, of course, ignoring how no one but a mad fool would _want_ the tainted ruin that will be left of Fereldan once the darkspawn are through with it." Anger bled into her words, and her eyes hardened. "Orlais has no bearing on this. Your paranoia has led to you wasting time and resources on a non-existent threat while the real one grows even stronger. The _Blight_ is the threat here." 

"There are enough refugees in my bannorn now to make _that_ abundantly clear," someone commented. I recognized her as Alfstana, Bann of the Waking Sea. She looked annoyed. "I petitioned _thrice_ for help with them, but received nothing but silence." 

"Silence is all I heard, when I begged for help while the West Hills burned," another added. Arl Wulff, a well respected man. Rumors said he lost his children, and almost lost his grandchild, because of the Blight. "The South is lost; Lothering is ruined." He shook his head. "Will you let the darkspawn take the whole country for fear of Orlais?" 

"The Blight is indeed real, Wulff, contrary to my initial impressions," Loghain replied. He looked mournful, but I wasn't sure if it was 'real' or not. "But do we need the Grey Wardens to fight it?" 

"Historical records confirm that is, indeed, the case," Lady Elspeth replied. This time, she openly glanced at me, and I nodded. I knew what this part was. This was us 'revealing' a secret. "The Archdemon has a regenerative ability that allows it to come back from the dead. Through the power of the Joining, Wardens gain the ability to stop it." Somehow. This was all really confusing. And I didn't like the implication that one of us would have to die for it. "If it was as simple as shoving a sword through its head, then the first Blight, the only one that was initially fought without Wardens, would not have lasted as long." 

"That does not change the _spectacular_ failure at Ostagar." He seriously brought that up? "Asking to bring four legions of chevaliers with them." 

"Yes, I suppose with so many, it might have been enough to send Cailan a messenger to tell him the plan was a failure." Lady Elspeth sighed. "Loghain, for all your pragmatism, I would not expect to have to remind you to attend to reality. But perhaps it is easier for you to make certain decisions in your delusion of a world." Her eyes narrowed. "Like say, for instance, selling the elves of the Alienage to Tevinter?" 

The effect was _instantaneous_ : roars of disapproval. Fereldan might not care about elves normally. Fereldan might ignore what happens to them. But the second anyone brought up the possibility of slavery, even if it was of elves, they rioted. Slavery betrayed everything they held sacred in the country. 

It was enough to make me smile bitterly. 

"There is no saving the Alienage," Loghain tried to defend. His wide eyes screamed that he never expected anyone to find out. "Damage from the riots has yet to be-" 

"Purge," Lady Elspeth cut off. Her tone was harsh, bitter. "Call it what it is. Howe led a purge in the Alienage, slaughtering anyone the soldiers came across. An _entire_ orphanage was put to the sword, and it was set on fire to ensure no survivors." Her hands balled into fists. "That we live in a country that such a thing can be suggested, that such a thing could go _unnoticed_ is a failing on many parts. Maric, my father, you… we failed the elves, and that you thought you could sell them without anyone noticing, that you _did_ sell them without anyone noticing, is the accumulation of those failures." Thank you. 

"I simply did what was good for Fereldan." 

"Thank you, kindly, for proving my point, as that statement implies that the elves are not Fereldan!" She was actually yelling now. "But since we are on your 'duty', why is it, then that you interfered with another's, a _templar's_?" Everything stilled. "Why is it that you captured a templar, freed a malificarum in his custody, and then trick that poor mage into poisoning Eamon? The dead were _walking_ in Redcliffe because of this!" Of course, that was because Isolde hid her son's magic, but no one needed to know _that_ yet. 

"Preposterous." Loghain was doing his best to seem nonchalant, but I saw how fast he paled. "I would use my own soldiers for such a task. I would not trust the discretion of an apostate." 

"How very peculiar," Alfstanna drawled. She leaned against the railing, looking quite smug suddenly. "My brother tells a very different tale, once he recovered enough from sitting in the dungeons of the Denerim estate." 

"While we are on the dungeons, I wish to ask another question about your duty," Lady Elspeth declared. She was in command, and the whole room knew it. They knew it by her fierce tone and almost regal bearing. I exchanged smiles with the others; Leliana looked _particularly_ proud. "In those dungeons, there were _countless_ men, women, and children being held hostage, and forced to endure torture for nothing more than a twisted man's sick pleasures." 

"The Cousland estate is filled with the survivors," Fergus added. His eyes were closed, as if he were forcing back tears. "Some of the children were younger than Oren, and scream if you so much as move too fast." 

"My own _son_ was among them!" another cried. Bann Sighard of Dragon's Peak. His eyes were furious. "He will never walk again after spending so much time on the _rack_!" The mood of the room was fury. Righteous fury, fanned by a single person after _days_ of information gathering. This was what our efforts earned. All of this, for this moment. 

"Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teryn Loghain!" the _Grand Cleric_ , traditionally silent during the Landsmeet unless specifically spoken to, hissed as she stood from her chair. "Torture is an offense against humanity, and interfering with a templar's sacred duty is an offense against the Maker." Snickering caught my ear, and I turned to see Shale and Oghren were fighting back laughter. Even Sten had cracked a smile. This was great. This was the best. 

"Whatever I have done, I will answer for later," Loghain whispered. He looked Lady Elspeth full in the face, though. "As for the moment, I wish to know what has been done with my daughter." 

"Anora?" Lady Elspeth replied. She smiled sweetly, and the look on Loghain's face screamed that he knew he had walking into a trap. "Anora, are you sufficiently recovered from your ordeal to speak for yourself?" 

"Yes, I am." It felt like the whole room gasped as Anora stepped into the room, walking slowly as if she were injured. This was something the two of them had concocted. Something about 'vulnerability winning people over'. Honestly, both of them terrified me. "Though, if you do not mind…" she whispered. Lady Elspeth immediately went to her side, and helped her the last few steps into the room proper. "As always, you are too kind." 

"It is simple courtesy." Lady Elspeth stepped back, smiling warmly. "Shall I, or…?" 

"No, I can keep going." Anora smiled back before focusing on the gathered nobles, who now held their breath. "Lords and Ladies of the Landsmeet, my father is no longer the man you know. He is no longer the Hero of the River Dane, but a man twisted by fear and hatred." Her eyes filled up with tears, and I almost wanted to applaud her for being a good actress. "This man turned aside, and did not protect your king, my husband, his _best friend's son_." Her voice cracked. "This man seized Cailan's throne, before his body was cold, through my name, and had me locked away so I could not reveal his treachery." She shook her head. "If Nuada and Commander Tabris had not answered my call for help, I might have been killed, or worse, at the hands of Howe!" 

"What a performance," I murmured as the crowd growled in anger at what could have happened. I couldn't help it. "She turned on her father for protection?" 

"She turned on him because she has realized her father is a detriment to Fereldan," Lord Nuada corrected. He was frowning slightly. "Look, I might have difficulties trusting the people of my past, but that's a problem with me, due to Howe. She's beloved, and there _is_ a reason for it." 

"…That is true. I had forgotten." Indeed, my issues were mainly personal. I felt she did not do enough for the elves, and I felt her too similar to Loghain, who I could not bring myself to trust. "She loves Fereldan." 

"Yes, and honestly, I think her main issue with Alistair is that, unlike her, he's really not trained." 

"She worries he will run the country into the ground." Prideful, she was. Overestimated her abilities, possibly. But she was loyal. No one in the world could deny that. She was loyal to her country, and the tears might not actually be faked. They might be real, as she loved her father, but felt he had to turn on him to protect her country. "Ah, is the vote…" 

"Yes, it's starting." 

It was hard to hold back a grin when the _very_ first thing heard was, "South Reach stands with Lady Elspeth!" 

"Lady Elspeth and her associates helped me when Howe's soldiers kidnapped my son. Wolf's Claw stands with them." 

"Waking Sea supports Lady Elspeth!" 

"Dragon's Peak supports Lady Elspeth!" 

"The West Hills, or what's left, throw their lot in with Lady Elspeth, Maker help us." 

"Redcliffe stands with Lady Elspeth!" 

"Highever stands with Elspeth and Anora." 

On, and on they voted. A few sided with Loghain. It was to be expected. But I watched the Grand Cleric tally the votes, and it was clear from the start who would win. Overwhelmingly, Lady Elspeth won, and with it, Loghain was deposed and, theoretically, we had our armies. 

But Lord Nuada tensed next to me, and I remembered there was another part to dealing with Loghain. One that we had known from the start. Loghain's angry rant, of which I barely caught half of, proved that. 

"Loghain, you are called to lay down your arms peacefully," Lady Elspeth murmured, a calm counterpoint that I could actually understand. "But if you will not, then I propose a duel, as per Landsmeet tradition. Do you accept?" Thoroughly confused, Loghain could only nod. "Very well." She took a step back, and curtseyed. "Then, it is time for me to leave the stage." She turned away, walking towards the group, and Lord Nuada moved, walking towards Loghain. "You're it, my twin." They passed each other, and I could hear the crowd murmur. I had a good idea why. In all the years of gossip I could remember, not _once_ did I remember anything like Lord Nuada _publically_ showing his martial prowess, except when he lost his temper. 

It was clear that the crowd expected a _fight_ , though. I saw Fergus help Anora up onto the second level, next to him, to keep her a bit safer. 

Lord Nuada and Loghain faced each other, drawing their weapons. They began to circle each other a few times, and the Landsmeet held its breath. I looked back, checking on everyone. Wynne was tending to Lady Elspeth, who was shaking, looking ill. She had used up most of her courage for the debate, but she won. Cleon had her snickering before long anyway. 

"Now we will see if his statement is fact." I glanced up at Sten, who crossed his arms, eyes narrowed as he watched. "I believe so, though," he whispered. "Ashkaari is skilled, in intelligence and in strength of arms." 

"Really, though, with all the fighting everyone has done, I think we could send even Layla, without using a spell, to win," Oghren noted on my other side. I glanced at Mistress Layla, and saw her clasp her hands in prayer. I knew she was more worried of Lord Nuada taking a bad injury, again, than of him losing. "Can a mage be sent?" 

"Now wouldn't _that_ have been fun," Morrigan murmured, slinking up behind me. I was curious that she was here, but she shrugged. "I am informing you that Zevran saw something suspicious and went to check it out." Ah, I see. "But, truly, would they have?" 

"Ask Lady Elspeth," I replied. The tension of the room was heavy. What were they waiting for? "I actually don't know that one." 

"Perhaps when she is a little calmer." Her eyes narrowed. "Ah, we're waiting on the old biddy." The old? 

"Begin!" Oh, the Grand Cleric. She was, apparently, the one who called the start to the duel. 

And, by the Maker, it began. 

Both lunged at the same type and their shields clanged together, actually sparking as they broke off and lunged again. Each movement was mirrored, and I knew it was deliberate. I could see Lord Nuada's eyes narrow as he watched for Loghain to become complacent. Lord Nuada was fighting as a 'champion', but he had other ways to fight. 

Such as templar. Lord Nuada suddenly twisted and used a sword trick Alistair had taught us both. I could hear the crowd gasp as they recognized it as a signature strike from the templars, a way to addle attackers before killing them. From there, Lord Nuada commanded the battle, switching between 'templar' and 'champion' to continuously keep Loghain off-balance. I grit my teeth as some strikes began to connect in places not protected by armor, and red dripped down. Sten moved to grip my shoulder reassuringly, and I was glad for it. 

Still, I wasn't the only one who yelled when Loghain got a lucky strike, clear across Lord Nuada's neck. Red blood flew, and I saw both Wynne and Layla lunge forward. 

But Lord Nuada grinned, and in his eyes, I saw power. Strength. Blood lust. The silver shimmered and I almost thought his eye shifted from human to dragon. He had another way to fight. Reaver. And he was done holding back. 

Lord Nuada slid his shield off his arm and threw. Loghain ducked under it, but a resounded _thud_ and _crack_ made the whole room scream. The shield had embedded in the wall. And Lord Nuada was not done, as he clearly expected Loghain to dodge. He had already moved, and struck with vicious, brutal attacks. Loghain's armor began cracking, the pieces clinking down. His shield buckled. 

He tried to catch one blow on his sword, but Lord Nuada's strength, bolstered by his injury, was too much. The sword _shattered_ , the shards flying and cutting into their faces. Lord Nuada's strike continued on, breaking the armor and sending Loghain flying, dented shield clattering to the ground. 

When Loghain tried to stand, Lord Nuada placed one foot on his chest, and pointed his sword at Loghain's face. The silent implication was clear: yield or die. 

Loghain sighed, and nodded, closing his eyes, and Lord Nuada stepped back, resting his sword on his shouder. The duel was over. As he had promised, Lord Nuada won. 

"How… did I underestimate you?" Loghain whispered. He stood slowly, shaking his head. "I taught you. I should know…" 

"Three months of chaos does a lot to change a person," Lord Nuada replied. His smile was sweet, a sharp contrast to the earlier bloodlust. I was glad that his eye went back to 'normal'. "You expected to fight the 'me' before Highever fell, not the 'me' that I became. I knew that. That's why I chose to be here." 

"You always were a good tactician." He laughed softly, shaking his head. "I yield." 

"…I had a good teacher." Lord Nuada stepped back and brought his sword to his side, closing his eyes. He did not seem bothered, at all, by the red blood trickling down his throat. I was, though. I wanted him healed. Now. "There has been no call for 'Oathbreaker' on you yet, despite the rumors, though it _is_ know you are associated with one: Rendon Howe." That had been declared official late last night. "With that, and your crimes, there is only one fate…" 

"Execution, yes, yes, I know." Loghain shook his head, and went ahead and knelt. "Go ahead." 

"…Very well." Lord Nuada moved to stand by Loghain, bringing the sword up. It flashed in the light, and I could see Anora trying to lunge forward, to stop it, and Fergus holding her back. "Goodbye." And so ends- 

"Wait." Startled, we all turned and I realized Riordan walk up. What was he doing here? Why did he have a chalice with him? "There is another option," he continued, coming to stand right in front of me. "The Teyrn is a warrior and general of great renown. He could be useful." He was not suggesting… "Let him go through the Joining." He was. He was honestly suggesting this! 

"You must be joking," I deadpanned. He had to be. "That's up there on the crazy scale." 

"It is not a matter of what we like, but what we _must_ do." That didn't matter to me at the moment. We had been doing what we must do _without_ any help! "We are not judges. Kinslayers, blood mages…" He glanced at Layla, who flinched. "Traitors, rebels…" He looked to Cleon, whose eyes narrowed when he saw the translation. "Carta thugs, murderers…" That time, he looked right at me. "Anyone with skill and courage to take u the sword against the darkspawn is welcome among us." I highly doubted that included 'person who made a decision that got a bunch of Wardens killed'. "It is an alternative and, if you choose, your right." The Right of Conscription. Duncan used it to save me from execution. Riordan was suggesting that I do the same 

I… was sorely tempted to hurt him. I really was. The whole _point_ of us setting things up this way was so that I could remain neutral. That _we_ could remain neutral. So that none of us had to make a decision, for once, and keep things peaceful. This was forcing me to make a decision that could jeapordize… 

Okay, you know what? Fuck it. 

"I would rather put the question to someone else, for once," I replied, hoping my voice was loud enough to carry. I stepped back and looked to the everyone, looking them in the eye. Less than one hundred days ago, I wouldn't have even thought about doing something like this. "So, Lords and Ladies of the Landsmeet, I leave the decision to you, as a gesture of goodwill! We Wardens value the alliance and oaths that bind us to Fereldan! We will not steal away your justice in this situation! Vote, as per your laws! If you choose execution, we will not bat an eye. If you choose the Joining, we will welcome him!" Not with open arms, mind. I didn't trust him. It made me a little sick to propose this at all. 

But I was tired of _every single important decision being forced on me and mine_. 

The nobles immediately debated. Whispered words, punctuated by loud yells. I glanced at Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth, but the looks on their faces said they hadn't expected this either. The one time someone comes in to give options, and it actually completely screws us up. Go. Figure. 

"I don't like this." It took me a second to realize the person 'hissing' was Alistair. "I really don't like this," he continued, head down and trembling from suppressed fury. 

"I know, Alistair," I replied. Honestly, no one liked it. I could tell by how our entire group looked ready to kill Riordan. "I don't either." 

"I will never like or trust him." 

"I know." 

"I can't view becoming a Warden as a punishment." 

"I know." I finally looked at him. "But I am _tired_ , Alistair." 

"I know." His fists clenched at his sides. "I know. So, I'll do my best to bite my tongue if…" 

"That's all any of us are going to do." 

"Landsmeet!" Fergus boomed, bringing the whispers to a halt. He certainly cut a commanding figure up there. You would think _he_ had planned such a thing. Who knows? Maybe he had. "In light of the threat, we must cut discussion here. Now, you must cast your votes for the fate of Loghain Mac Tir!" 

Each one voted one by one, just as they did for the earlier debate. I watched the Grand Cleric keep track of each vote, and felt intense regret as I realized what would win. 

"The Landsmeet has spoken. Loghain, you will undertake the Joining." 

I held onto the faint hope that the Joining would kill him as I watched Riordan pass the chalice to Loghain and watched him drink. It had killed Daveth and Ser Jory. Why would it not kill him? Though, then again, I had no idea why it didn't kill _us_ , all those days ago. But, in the end, it didn't matter. 

"He lives. Loghain Mac Tir, former Teyrn of Gwaren, Hero of the River Dane, you are now a Grey Warden, and will live to atone for all of your crimes." 

So falls the aging hero, and he was stuck in the shadows with us. Maybe I _should_ have decided. Well, too late now. I made the decision to not choose. I had to live with the consequences. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So, one big reason I emphasized Alistair's character development was to have this 'work out', so to speak. In game, you _cannot_ have Alistair and Loghain be in the party at the same time (there is a way to keep him in your camp, I think, but it requires a very specific set of conditions). This is because of a few things: 1) Loghain is responsible for the death of the only father-figure Alistair ever really had (Duncan) and the only people to ever treat him like family (The Wardens), and it would not surprise me if Alistair was also bitter about Cailan's death; 2) Alistair, as mentioned above, just… he personally can't see becoming a Warden as a punishment because becoming a Warden really was the best thing to ever happen to him, to him it is a _reward_ and a promise for a better life which he doesn't feel Loghain deserves; 3) Because of Alistair's psychological association, bringing Loghain into the Wardens is almost like asking him to accept Loghain as a 'brother/uncle/friend/family' when Loghain is, again, responsible for the death of the only family Alistair _has ever had_. To add a bit, there is a reason I emphasized how little time this all takes: it hasn't even been three months since Ostagar. He's three months into mourning, and not even a _proper_ mourning, because of everything else that's going on. And is only twenty, an age where people aren't… really well known for good coping skills anyway, much less ones who suffered from abuse and neglect for most of their growing years. 
> 
> However, this is a fanfiction, and novelizations are more fun if you change things. So, in this one, we have Loghain be recruited, _and_ Alistair staying on. (Because, while understandable, it is a bit sad you don't ever really get to see these two interact.) 
> 
> Next chapter – the second half of the Landsmeet with Nuada 


	108. Chapter 95) Rise

Chapter 95) Rise 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_Two days after I met Cailan, the rest of his 'group' arrived. The meeting then was more formal, and I gathered that the reason was 'King Maric', and him coming to personally thank Father for his years of service abroad._

_His companion was scary, though. With sharp tongue and sharper eyes, he was sarcastic to King Maric's praise, cynical to King Maric's optimism. No one seemed to care, but it made me uneasy. It made me so uneasy that I went out of my way to avoid him._

_One day, though, I couldn't do that. He had come to watch Fergus give me sword lessons, so there was no way I could avoid him._

_His eyes were studying, and cold, as he watched, but he nodded when the lesson ended. "Fergus, you better keep up your training," he said. "The boy has a keener grasp of a blade than you do, even at his young age." He nodded again, but just to me. "Don't think I caught your name, and I doubt you caught mine with all the political nonsense. I'm Loghain Mac Tir." I knew the name; he was the Hero of the River Dane._

_"I'm Nuada," I replied, making myself smile. "I'm sure Fergus can still beat me, though."_

_"That's age, and it won't help him for long." Loghain seemed certain of that. "You're more of a warrior." He left then, without saying more or even a proper goodbye._

_But I thought I caught the concern in his tone anyway. 'Do not be afraid to ask for help; I know what it is like to be born a warrior too.'_

* * *

The one time someone tries to help, and it completely screwed us up. The one time someone else made a decision, and it was something that rankled the group. This was just typical. 

Our group was waiting outside, as an intermission had been called to gather thoughts for the next big thing on the agenda: choosing who would rule the country. Our group was _also_ dealing with the very unexpected thing that occurred. Most of the more 'pragmatic' of our people were taking it well, but even then, there seemed to be some friction. 

"Lord Nuada," Aiden whispered. He and I were both leaning against the wall, by the door, a bit away from the group. I had no idea what to feel, and _he_ was kicking himself for not deciding for once. "Where is Loghain?" 

"He is recovering in a guest room with Riordan," I answered automatically. Riordan, at least, seemed to be of good cheer. "It's likely he won't wake until all of this is over." 

"I see." He fell silent again, watching Cleon rapidly argue with Morrigan over this decision. The signs moved too fast for me to read. "Did I make a bad call?" 

"Truthfully, in terms of our relation with Fereldan, it's good, because if this was what was voted, then there would have been a lot of resentful nobles if you had picked either." In terms of our group, though, it might have been better to execute him. In terms of myself, if I _had_ to think, it might have been better that I wasn't the one who killed him. Howe's death still haunted me. "It also means that if the Landsmeet picks Anora, she'll be very agreeable with us." 

"So, it's not a bad one." 

"Aiden, this whole situation is messed up. You can't put a 'good' or 'bad' on it." 

"I wish I could." Yeah… "So, how do we deal with-?" A 'clang' stopped his words cold, and he frowned as he looked up. 

"What is with the bell?" 

"It signals that the intermission is over." I pushed myself off the wall. "It's time to head back in, and bear witness to the next chapter of Fereldan's history." 

"I'm a little done with living through historical moments." Ha… "Did you get your injury treated?" 

"Yes." It was scabbed over. I wanted it to scar, though. I wanted something to remind me that even if I knew someone's tricks, that wouldn't necessarily save me. "Layla scolded me already." 

"Good." He smiled, and I smiled back. "Then let's lead the way inside." 

We both nodded, and waved to the others. Only Elspeth knew what the bell meant, so it took a little bit of wrangling to get everyone grouped up and ready to head inside. So, when we finally did make it back, and found comfortable places to stand, the Landsmeet was back to business. 

"Lords and Ladies of the Landsmeet," Fergus called, leaning against the railing to emphasize his words. I glanced around and found Anora was already back on the 'main' floor. "There is something that must be made clear." I closed my eyes, and waited. Elspeth and I were done; our part was over. From this point forward, it was Fergus's show, so that it was made clear that Highever was shaken, but not weaken. "The Blight is coming, and we must be united. So, I call for the vote for ruler _now_." There were murmurs of surprise, but I knew Fergus was holding firm. "The south is devoured. The darkspawn are snapping on our heels. We do not have anymore time. So, I call for the vote now, in order to not risk indecision." 

The gathered nobles murmured agreements and the voting began. I didn't pay attention to who voted for whom. It didn't matter; the numbers did. Aiden counted the votes on his hand: right for Alistair, left for Anora. It was mostly for Cleon, as this was a situation where we had a suspicion, some had a hope, but did not _know_ what was going to happen. We had known Elspeth would win. 

But the votes were tallied, and I held a breath as I realized it was close. But, ultimately, the decision _was_ clear. It was a clear majority, not a victory by only a handful of votes. 

"The next ruler of Fereldan shall be Alistair Theirin, then," Fergus declared, reading out the final tally. I wasn't surprised, though did see Alistair pale a little. Days of speculation had led to a very, _very_ real thing. "Are there any other proposed votes for today?" 

"Actually, Fergus, if I might make a proposal?" Alfstanna suddenly called. Fergus frowned slightly, and that was enough to tell me everything. This wasn't something he had set up. Alfstanna, what chaos were you about to throw us into? "For the stability of Fereldan, it might be good to go ahead and propose a wife for King Alistair." Ah, it was this. This was something we had accounted for, even if we prayed it would not be the case. "It will make the people feel more secure." 

"That is a good point." Fergus closed his eyes and nodded. "Very well, but the vote will also need to be made immediately." I glanced at Elspeth, and saw she had her eyes closed. She was giving up, right now. I wished I could blame her for it. "And you will have to cast the first vote." 

"Certainly, I wouldn't have proposed it if I didn't already have an idea." Alfstanna grinned, and I suddenly felt afraid. "Waking Sea proposes that Lady Elspeth Cousland be the Queen of Fereldan." …What. WHAT?! "She is known if foreign courts, and more than that, she is _liked_ in foreign courts, which will be useful considering how war torn we are. She has martial skill, capable of protecting herself and others. She has been _very_ active in protecting Fereldan, and in combating Loghain. As we all just witness, she is skilled in talking and debating, while maintaining a cool head." Alfstanna shrugged. "That is the sort of Queen I would want for Fereldan, especially as we rebuild from the Blight." The whole Landsmeet was silent. "Fergus? Will you take the next vote?" 

"No, because I'm not stupid." Fergus sighed, grimacing, and it was _very clear_ Alfstanna did this entirely on her own. Fergus had no part in it. "Since I know what this is becoming. A vote between Anora, my dear friend, and Elspeth, my little sister. Highever abstains from voting on this matter, as I like my head where it is." 

Laughter rippled through the crowd, and voting commenced. I could only stand there gaping. Of all the things I figured, this was not one of them. This was _really_ not one of them. I was so shocked that I just _couldn't_ keep track of who voted for who. Just as before, Aiden kept track of the votes on his hands. Just as before, there was a clear majority to the winner, even if the vote was still close. 

"So, King Alistair's wife, the future queen of Fereldan, shall be Lady Elspeth Cousland." This was crazy. This was crazy. I refused to even keep track of who all was _talking_ because this was so crazy. "Any _other_ votes?" 

"Do we need to vote on who will be the Teryn of Gwaren?" Um… well, what about Anora? Law dictated it would need to go to Anora. "Loghain is officially listed as a 'traitor'." …Law dictated that it would _not_ go to Anora in that case. Loghain, you really screwed her over… I was certain most of the doubt stemmed from how she was similar to him. I knew that was why many of _my_ group did not even give her a chance. "Gwaren might be damaged due to darkspawn, but it is still a territory of Fereldan." 

"Give it to Lord Nuada." …Hold on, what?! "He defeated Loghain in fair combat. Don't our laws dictate it should go to him since Loghain's line is no longer allowed to inherit." DID THESE PEOPLE NOT REALIZE THEY WERE PUTTING A LOT OF POWER IN ONE FAMILY'S CONTROL?! Maker's balls, Landsmeet, that would put two Couslands ruling the only two teyrnirs of Fereldan, _and_ one as the queen of Fereldan. "Let that be the end of the matter. We must unite to fight!" I forgot how heavy-handed the Landsmeet could be. 

"Then there is one matter to deal with," Eamon noted. All eyes turned to him, but he looked to Anora. I winced at how startled she looked, angry, and even afraid. Her eyes darted to Elspeth, but Elspeth's very blank look I think mollified her. This hadn't been expected. Elspeth hadn't calculated a betrayal here; the Landsmeet just took a very weird turn. "Anora." Anora's eyes flashed in reply, and I had a bad feeling of what was coming. Eamon was about to _really_ insult her. "You will swear that you, and any of your children-" 

"Um… can I just cut in now?" Alistair asked. All eyes turned to him and he waved. "Hi. So, thank you all for voting and believing in me. I hope to live up to your expectations, and I know I still have much to learn, so I thank you also for your patience in me." He smiled. "But, can we wait for any oaths or discussions until the Blight is over? I do intend to go out and fight. That is my job as a Warden, and I do believe that is my job as Fereldan's king, though I promise to not charge recklessly through the front lines." There were many relieved smiles at that. "Also, I mean… Anora's really skilled, right? Can we save insulting her for another time? I might need her help?" Alistair's smile fell for a serious look. "Besides, what if something happens to me? You can't trick her into becoming an oathbreaker. So, uh…" He laughed awkwardly. "Can we just have her protected? Oh, wait, that's not an insult, right?" 

"…No, it isn't," Anora replied slowly. She looked confused, and I knew why. This was showing a degree of political savvy she honestly had not thought he had, for good reasons. "I must admit; I might not have been as kind to you." 

"Politics!" That got a bit of laughter. "So, ah… guard… um… oh, Fergus, do you mind?" 

"No, I don't mind," Fergus replied. He was definitely laughing at all of this. "I'd be honored to give Anora guards." He bowed his head. "So, Your Majesty, what will be your first official order?" 

"Gather the forces, marshal the troops, we meet for a war meeting in two hours." Alistair turned, looking right Aiden. "Is that long enough for you?" Aiden nodded, smiling. "All right. Then let's move, people! Let's show the world the strength of Fereldan!" 

* * *

One hour later, I was still trying to figure out what all just happened. Even if I was looking at paperwork explaining what just happened, it didn't compute. 

"I can't believe the Landsmeet did that," I groaned, facepalming. They had decided to not only name me Teryn of Gwaren, but Alistair's 'official' champion, meaning they gave me all the power of a general. "Did they forget that I'm a Warden?" 

"I have a feeling we broke a _lot_ of rules," Aiden snickered. At this point, he was amused, but that was probably because he got to sit and watch me flail. "I'm sorry, but after seeing you masterfully manipulate, it was hilarious seeing you so thrown off balance." 

"I am pleased to have been a source of amusement." I was sure, when all the chaos settled, I'd be laughing too, but right now… "Ah, this is all too strange and messy." 

"Hasn't this entire 'adventure' been that?" That was a good point. "I do have one lingering question, though." 

"What happened to everyone's sanity?" 

"Oh, I assumed the Blight tainted it." Ha. "But no, something different." 

"What is it?" 

"What do you think will happen with Anora?" …Ah. 

"I have no idea." At the moment, she was alive. But the Landsmeet ruled against her twice, and thanks to her father, she could not even inherit Gwaren. "I hope that whatever is decided, it will be kind. She doesn't really deserve it." 

"I disagree to a point, but that is my opinion." He shrugged. "What are you looking through?" 

"These are estimated troop numbers." I passed them to him, and I heard him whistle softly. "No matter what anyone says about Ostagar and the retreat, it should be noted that Loghain's decision _did_ make sure that the majority of the army survived that battle." These numbers weren't even accounting for potential volunteers. "When combined with the might of our allies, we will have an army thrice the size as the one that gathered in Ostagar." 

"I see…" Aiden only smiled, but I knew what he was thinking. 'We really did it.' "Ah, right, so how is the division of leadership going to work-?" 

"Um, hey, Elspeth?" Both of us paused at Alistair's awkward words, and immediately bolted for the door to peer out in the hallway. "I um…" he stammered, looking nervous. Elspeth seemed mostly calm, but I could see some hesitancy in her eyes. "I… guess we're engaged now?" It was more than a 'guess'. Since the Landsmeet voted for it, it would be really hard to break it off. "Are you… okay with that?" 

"Well, yes…" Elspeth mumbled. She ducked her head. "Mostly…" 

"Mostly?" 

"I'm not sure about becoming _queen_." Her face was turning red. "B-but I do like… the idea of marrying you… so…" 

"You do?" Alistair's face lit up. "Really?" 

"Yes…" She glanced up, smiling slightly. "Are you okay? With marrying me?" 

"Maker, _yes_." He took her hand, and kissed it gently. Both of them were so red. "I… will do all I can to make sure you're happy." 

"And I will do the same for you." 

"Well, that'll be easy for you. You just have to smile." 

"Then you have an even easier job, as your smile is all I need to be happy as well." 

Aiden and I glanced at each other, and closed the door again. Much as I wanted to continue eavesdropping, there was a war to be fought before they could get the happy ending. 

But wow, was I ever motivated now! 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: This concludes the Landsmeet, with Alistair as King and Elspeth as Queen. In game, the decision is solely on you, but Fereldan is a nation that _elects_ its king, so it makes more sense to me that they vote on the ruler. I also wanted to showcase the Couslands being thrown off and taken by surprise, since the Landsmeet has been a string of 'Couslands plot and win'. Though I suppose they still 'won'. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Cleon 


	109. Chapter 96) Dark Ritual

Chapter 96) Dark Rituals 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Here." Keeper Marethari solemnly handed me my tenth birthday present. My first pair of daggers. "Take this, and know what they mean, Cleon," she whispered._

_I nodded as I took them. They felt heavy, and I knew why. They were the burden I would carry as a hunter. I would train until I barely noticed it. That was my job._

_"Be wary, Cleon. Do not let the burden overwhelm you."_

* * *

The Landsmeet was done. Now, we had to deal with the _actual_ threat. Days… months… had been building to this. 

The day after the Landsmeet, we got new armor. Things Nuada had commissioned for us, paid for by Highever. Supposedly as 'thanks' for helping reclaim Highever. And something about 'the winners of the Landsmeet have to look good for parades'. I had thought he was joking, but… well… he hadn't been. 

'You better be prepared for more things like this,' Fergus teased. Nuada was the only one not too tired to sign for me. 'When you win, there will be a _lot_ more of that.' Nuada signed 'lot' _twelve times_. Creators, kill me now. 'Though, you can be grateful you are not Alistair and Elspeth right now.' _Those_ two were still out, because all of Denerim wanted to see their new king and queen. Wynne, Sten, and Oghren were with them as extra protection. Because it wasn't like we were going to trust the guard. 

'How is Anora?' Nuada asked. I caught how conflicted he looked. 'She doing okay?' 

'Well, she isn't screaming, and Oren loves having her around to play with.' Was that an answer? Nuada nodded like it was. 'Regardless, though, I have some things for you four.' He moved to the back for something, and the four of us exchanged looks of confusion. Even Nuada didn't seem to know what was going on. 

But then, well, it became obvious as Fergus laid out everything on the table. Weapons. He had gotten us _weapons_. 

'These are… incredible,' Aiden sighed before picking up the giant greatsword. It was the strangest one I had seen, though. The hilt was gold and bronze, and asymmetrical, curling into the blade. The blade itself was silver, with some sort of runes imprinted into the blade as it curved slightly. I worried how that might weaken the blade, but Aiden just looked impressed. 

'Wade, the person who made your armor, indulged me in two weapon requests,' Fergus explained. Nuada continued to sign for me, but I could see his eyes sparkling at the sword and shield. 'A fellow of the Drydan family, Levi, contacted me to let me know about how his family was managing the old Warden fortress for you.' Levi? 'His brother is a smith. When I asked, I got two requests from him as well.' Oh, I see. And it was only two because of the time limit. 'Regardless, Wade named that 'Vigilance'.' Why that? Well, I guess you had to be vigilant to make sure people didn't _steal_ it. 'Anyway, Nuada…' He smiled sheepishly suddenly. 'Well, when I commissioned the sword for you, I hadn't known your friends had the same idea as I did.' 

'The family sword and shield are yours _at last_ ,' Nuada deadpanned. I could tell by how exasperated he looked, and how Aiden and Layla snickered. 'I wanted to give them to you at Highever.' 

'I was injured then!' But, regardless, we had already given Nuada the sword we had found at the Keep, and he had permanently retired his family heirloom. 'Regardless, I'm not sure what you'll want to do with Starfang.' 

'Might for the Darkspawn, Fang for everything else.' He shrugged, undoing his belt to slide the Starfang's sheathe onto it. 'It isn't bad to have options.' He carefully took a few steps, nodding. 'Doesn't even throw me off. I'll do some practice swings to be safe, though.' He picked up the shield, eyes narrowed. 'This is…?' 

'A shield traditionally awarded to the winner of the Landsmeet, should it proceed to a duel.' I wondered if it was a good one. Nuada's sparkling eyes hinted it was. 'So, that one isn't commissioned. The Grand Cleric _demanded_ I pass it to you.' Fergus shook his head and looked to me. 'I was uncertain if these would suit your fighting style, but I went ahead and commissioned then.' 

Carefully, I picked up the daggers, studying them closely. Fergus let me be, talking to Layla about the rapier she had, something about being forged from a high dragon's fang, but I focused on the daggers. They were a pair, mirrors of each other. Blue and purple in coloring, and a jagged blade, almost like a lightning bolt. I could sense the magic within them, and I noticed that while one was 'warm', the other was 'cool'. Fire and ice. These were enchanted, and I could see the runes glinting in the hilt. One was the rune of 'devastation', places in each hilt almost like the centerpiece. These daggers were completely about doing as much damage as possible in a single strike. That was perfect for a hunter, for an assassin, for a shadow. For a Warden. 

I felt a little conflicted, though. After all, the daggers I had wielded from the forest to now… they had been my mother's. I had gotten them from Lanaya, after reading the letter. It felt like… I didn't know. It was a strange, heavy feeling, whatever it was. 

But there was something I needed to remember. My mother had _only_ been a hunter. Her daggers have served me well, but with my role, these new ones would be better. They would be better because, like the first daggers I ever received, they had been _tailored_ for me. 

Besides, there was nothing that said I couldn't carry four daggers on my person. Having two hidden ones might prove to be very, _very_ good in the coming days. 

I waved my hand to catch their attention, and smiled when they looked at me. 'They are very nice,' I signed. Layla's bright smile hinted she was the one translating for me. 'Ma serannas.' Though, a thought did occur to me. 'What of our companions, though?' 

'They're getting new things too,' Fergus immediately promised. He grinned. 'Leaders, however, need to look the part.' I thought that stupid, but based on how Aiden and Nuada both nodded, it appeared appearances were somewhat important. 'Ah, but I have eaten up enough of your time.' He had? …HE HAD! THERE WAS A WAR COUNCIL! 'There is still time to go change.' 

The four of us bolted, taking our new weapons with us. I think Aiden and Nuada headed directly for the place. I ran to my room, personally, to drop things off. However, I slowed as I passed the library, and noticed who was inside. Loghain. While we had been outside, he had been on 'house arrest' within the estate. 

He seemed to be writing something down as he poured over maps, but he glanced up suddenly, as if he sensed me there. Maybe he had heard me. I wasn't being careful about my steps. 

I stared at him for a long moment, fighting back the anger rising in me. I hated him. I hated him. I hated that he was here. I _hated_ that I was now stuck with him. If I hadn't completely understood why Aiden pushed the decision off, if I hadn't realized that we were all just _tired_ and wanted to rest, but Creators above, we just _couldn't_ yet… I would be 'screaming'. 

Deciding that I needed to vent my anger a little, I walked over to him. He didn't know the signs, but he had paper and pen, so I snatched them both from him to write: 'I will never forgive you for Ostagar.' I would never forgive him for _anything_ he had done, but that there… that there summarized it far more than anything else. 

He blinked slowly, tilting his head, before writing back. 'Good. You shouldn't.' …There was something just plain _eerie_ about how easily he accepted that. Just accepted my anger, my hate. 'If the Fereldan Generals give you trouble, cite protocol 62. That'll shut them up.' 

I left without writing a reply. I didn't want to give _that man_ any sort of thanks. 

* * *

After the war council, I was even angrier. Even though the thought had made me _ill_ , I ended up having to follow Loghain's advice. Turned out protocol 62 was 'King's Champion overrides the generals'. Which Nuada took full advantage of so that we could split the forces exactly as had we had wanted to. These people were expecting another Ostagar. We were expecting _another Ostagar and wanted to keep some people back, damn it_! 

Sighing, I stumbled into my room, planning on just going to bed. However, I noticed something off. Morrigan was standing in front of the fireplace, the only light in the whole room. The curtains were shut, even. 

I kicked the doorframe as I shut the door behind me, to let her know I was here. She turned to face me, and she looked very resigned to some. What was going on? 

'Perhaps I should wait until Riordan tells, but I do not wish to wait any longer,' she signed slowly. When I stepped towards her, she took a step back. 'Please.' Well, I wasn't given much of a choice in this scenario. 'I…' She hesitated, before shaking her head, whispering something she did not sign. 'I know what happens when an archdemon dies.' Everything stilled at the words. 'I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed. The mutual destruction of two souls. That is how the Archdemon dies.' 

I remained silent. So, our suspicions were true. In order to kill the Archdemon, after everything that happened, one of us would die. Sure, it could be Riordan. Elgar'nan, we could throw Loghain at it. But I doubted that it could be anyone but us, and I didn't want Loghain to take the easy way out. Redemption by glorious sacrifice? Ridiculous. He fell, and he was going to crawl his way back up, and I wanted to _watch him struggle_. 

But that meant it would be one of _us_. I didn't like that. 

'But, Cleon, I have a plan.' She slinked towards me, angling herself so I had a _very_ good view of her figure. She hadn't done things like this since we started having sex. 'A way out. A loop in the hole, so to speak.' 

'Something Asha'bellanar taught you,' I signed back. Pieces were starting to click together. 'The reason she sent you along.' 

'She might have sent me along for this, but it is my own choice to offer it.' She stopped right in front of me. 'A ritual, performed on the even of battle, in the dark of night. Old magic, from long before the Circle of Magi was created.' She shrugged. 'Perhaps its roots even come from Arlathan.' That wouldn't be all that impressive, actually. Many spells nowadays had their roots there. 'Some might call it blood magic, but I think that matters little to you.' That depended. 'Will you listen?' 

'Very well.' 

She smiled softly, moving to sit on the bed. 'I propose that you lay with me tonight.' This was different from normal nights, how? 'And from our joining, a child will be conceived.' She wanted me to _what_. 'The child will bear the Taint. That is the beacon that draws the Archdemon's soul to the Warden, and why the Archdemon continuously resurrects.' It used the Taint to sustain itself, like the legends of Asha'bellanar using her 'daughters' to sustain her own life. 'At that early stage, however, the child is in no danger. Not like a grown Warden. Thus, there are no sacrifices.' 

'Except an unborn child.' This didn't sit quite right with me. Children were precious. 'A child born with the soul of an ancient.' They would be an outcast. They would never find a place to belong. 

'The child will be mine.' Her eyes sharpened, but I saw her dig her free hand into the sheets. 'After this is over, you will…' She paused, and her eyes became glassy. 'You will let me walk away.' The words… hurt. They really did. 'Walk away, and you will not follow. The child will be mine to raise, to nurture.' 

'Is this why…?' 

'Caring for you was never part of my plan.' She shook her head. 'But this is important to me. I feel I must do this. And I _want_ to do this.' She looked up at me pleadingly. 'I do not want you to die for them. I do not want _any_ of you to die for these people. But that it might save you, in particular, makes me all the more determined.' Her free hand came up, reaching for me entreatingly. 'Please, Cleon…' 

I studied her closely. She and I had been getting into more arguments recently. Clashes over what was 'moral' and a 'good choice'. And it made me feel… hurt, pained, that there had been an ulterior motive to our relationship this whole time. I did not like the idea of sacrificing a child, and I did not like the idea of not being able to watch over that child myself. But that didn't change the fact that I still did hold a love for her and, more importantly… 

'I trust you.' I signed the words slowly, so that there was no misinterpretation. She looked ready to cry at them. 'So, what do I need to do?' I trusted her. Even with everything else, that was a fact. 

Based on her smile, I thought it was the greatest thing I could have said to her. More than any words of romance or lust, _those_ were the words she longed to hear. 'Just relax.' She smiled slowly, but it was a warm, almost shy one. 'We will make it a night to remember.' 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: In game, you don't learn about the Dark Ritual in Denerim. I moved it up, mostly because story wise, everyone is 'expecting' the battle to actually be in Redcliffe, so the 'eve of battle' would actually be before setting out to Redcliffe. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Redcliffe with Layla (Including interludes, we are 14 chapters away from the end) 


	110. Chapter 97) Dark Secret

Chapter 97) Dark Secret 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_Secrets were common in the Circle. Even among your greatest friends, there were things you never said. There were things you could never say, for fear of putting yourself in danger or, worse, for fear of putting them in danger._

_Still, it was a bit of a slap in the face the first time I realized Anders kept a secret from me. I knew why. If he had told me he had found a way out of the Circle, was planning his second escape attempt, I would have stopped him. He did not want to be stopped._

_"You are such an idiot!" I sobbed, when the templars dragged him back, bruised and bloody. "Why did you even set off an explosion like that?!"_

_"That had… been an accident…" Anders mumbled. He would not look at me. "It was only supposed to be flash. A distraction. Didn't mean for you to get hurt."_

_"Someone could have been killed! Do not ever do something like that again!"_

_"Yes, yes."_

* * *

Redcliffe was under assault again. I wondered if the villagers preferred that it was darkspawn instead of rotted corpses. But, I suppose it did not matter to them. They had only just been recovering when this all started. 

"Is it just me, or are most of the soldiers here looking at us like we are the Maker's Gift to the world?" I asked quietly as we loitered in the throne room. It had taken some time, but we did manage to take out all the darkspawn, and get all the villagers within the castle walls, before too much damage had been done. "I did not think we did much." 

"Mi amor, are you saying you did not realize we were the Maker's Gift before?" Nuada teased. His smile was slightly strained, though, and I knew why. Having Loghain around was not very good for his mental health at the moment. It was hard for him to move on when the reminder of everything was lingering in the corner, literally. "To be serious, though, they were struggling, and then we took care of things. Of course there's going to be a bit of hero worship. Aiden and I had a good laugh about that a while ago." 

"That we did, Lord Nuada," Aiden replied, snickering. He looked more relaxed than he had in a long while. I wondered if the fight had done him some good, even if there had been too much 'red' about. "Cleon, will you relax?" He nudged Cleon, but Cleon simply shook his head. _Something_ had happened back at the estate. We all knew it. It made Morrigan sad, and Cleon tense and antsy. I thought they might have broken up, but neither of them spoke of it. So, we really had no choice but to wait. "You're acting like me." 

'Thank you for the compliment,' Cleon _instantly_ signed, expression droll. 'But I am sure you three noticed too. The attack was too small.' I had no reply. After all, he was right. It _was_ too small. 'More importantly, previously, they used the weaker ones to serve as the vanguard. These were not.' It felt more like a… 

"Yes, Cleon, it was a distraction, but if we don't look all nice and calm, the soldiers are going to notice and panic," Nuada sighed. The doors of the throne room finally clicked open then, and he turned to face them. "So, scale of one to ten, how right am I on the distraction part?" 

"I fear you are completely right," Riordan sighed. I tensed, barely checking the urge to scowl. I did not like him. I did not like that he just forced the choice of Loghain's Joining on us. While I was conflicted on Loghain, even now, I did not like that he dropped that on us. I would never forgive him for it. "The darkspawn do not march in this direction at all." Riordan came to stand with us, Teagan following closely. I wondered where Eamon was, but decided he must be checking on his castle's defenses. "The bulk of the horde is, in fact, marching towards Denerim." 

"I am so pleased to see that I was _perfectly correct_ in stationing some of our army up at the old Keep." Nuada and Aiden shared an exasperated look. They would not have even had that if Cleon had not shown a startling knowledge of Fereldan military law and cited some protocol that let Nuada push through over objections. "How far are they away from the capital?" 

"Two days." The four of us circled up, leaving just enough room for Riordan and Teagan to join us. Loghain remained exactly where he was, in the corner, listening but not speaking. The rest of our companions were busy with their own things. There was just too much going on. "I got close enough to 'listen in'. I am certain of this knowledge." 

"Word has been sent," Teagan added. He looked a lot more tired than I remembered, but then again, he had been the one taking care of Redcliffe while we were away at the Landsmeet. This had to be disheartening. "But they'll need more than word. They'll need our armies." 

"How far off are we?" Aiden asked. His eyes were steady, as were his hands. I glanced at Cleon, double-checking that he was keeping up, and he nodded back. He was fine. "At a hard march, we can make it in… how long?" 

" _Forced_ march will get us there in… three days, roughly." Was there a difference between 'hard' and 'forced'? "The Keep group might be able to make it in two, but only on the tail end of that." 

"There is another, greater concern," Riordan whispered. His eyes were deadly serious. "The archdemon is at the head of the horde." Maker… "The horde must be defeated, yes, but the archdemon is the true target. Otherwise, the horde will simply rebuild and come again." 

"Well, let's get everyone ready, then," Nuada sighed. He looked like he was about to get a headache. "We can't sacrifice Denerim. There's too many people there." He shook his head. "Besides, I can already hear all of our friends screaming about going to help, and they're not even here yet." This was true. "Teagan?" 

"I'll get everyone ready," he replied with a shrug. "Eamon's asked me to lead Redcliffe's armies in his stead. I think Connor is panicking." That would be so bad. "Besides, no matter how much he puts on a mask, he is not fully recovered from the… whatever it all was." Yes, that was true. "But I think Riordan had more information…?" 

"Yes, but it is Grey Warden business," Riordan answered with an apologetic smile. It took everything I had to resist rolling my eyes. "My apologies." 

"No, no. I know how organizations are." Teagan laughed, apparently in good cheer. "Nuada, let's share a drink later." Nuada smiled and nodded in reply. "I'll go find Alistair, and congratulate him on his engagement!" Teagan all but disappeared after that. An awkward silence fell as I glanced around, noticing that there was no one else in the throne room. What was going on…? 

"Now then…" Riordan sighed. He looked at all of us with almost sad eyes. "Perhaps I should wait for Alistair, but given his new duties, that… might not be advisable." Well, that was… high-handed? That was the only word I could think on. "Tell me, have you ever wondered why the Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?" 

"We actually looked a bit into that," Aiden replied. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as I realized what was going on. This… was where we would receive confirmation. "We know that the archdemon is immortal, unless a Warden kills them. We also know that… every Warden who has done that… has also died. But, we're not sure if…" 

"Yes. They are connected." The calm words made me feel like the ground gave out under me. "The essence of the beast will pass through the taint, to the nearest darkspawn, and will be reborn anew in that body." If it 'passed through the taint', though, then the nearest… if a _Warden_ killed the archdemon, then the 'nearest' would be that Warden. "Since the Warden is not a soulless vessel like the darkspawn, the essence of the archdemon is destroyed, as is the Warden." Two souls could not survive comfortably in the same body. Even abominations, like Wynne, would eventually show the strain as the two spirits would wear on each other, fraying them into pieces. Wynne made no secret that she was on borrowed time. 

"So, basically, what we've suspected was true." In order for the Blight to end, someone was going to die. _One of us_ was going to die. "Well, that's just…" 

"In Blights past, the eldest of the Wardens would decide amongst them who would take that final blow." He placed a hand over his heart. "If possible, that blow should be mine. You are all young, and still have many years ahead of you. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer." Yes, but since when had this adventure been convenient? _Everything_ in this 'adventure' had been decided by us. 

"And if you fail, then the blow goes to me, yes?" All of us nearly jumped out of our skin as Loghain started laughing. "I had been wondering why you, of all people, would offer to recruit," he murmured, shaking his head. "But I get it. I'm your back-up, aren't I? If you fail, send the fallen hero to kill it, no damage to them." 

"As if we're letting you take the easy way out!" Aiden instantly snapped. His eyes blazed. "I also don't appreciate being dragged around by the collar. When the time comes, then we'll make a decision then, with no assumptions. But if you two think that, after all of this, after everything the four of us have been through, we'll just sit by and let you mess us up with well-intentioned meddling, you have another thing coming." That was true. This has always been _our_ journey. We knew how this would end. "If there's nothing else, we're going to disperse and take care of things. We're marching off to war at daybreak." There was only silence. "See you all in the morning, everyone." 

As we all slowly dispersed, though, I noticed something odd. Throughout Riordan's explanation, even when Loghain had spoken, Cleon had kept his arms crossed, hands pinned. He had not done that, ever. 

It was like he was keeping himself from saying something. But what could he be hiding? What sort of dark secret was he keeping back? Why? 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: You know; when you think about it, the whole 'two souls destroying each other' thing is basically the same principle behind why abominations tend to go crazy eventually. Yes, Cleon is keeping quiet about the Ritual. But now, the rest of the Wardens know what's going on. Oh, and going ahead and warning: since we're reaching the endgame, chapters are going to be rather short to, well, highlight how chaotic things are. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Aiden 


	111. Chapter 98) Dark Travels

Chapter 98) Dark Travels 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"How did you keep going?" I asked Alarith one day. He was drunk, and talking about his life as a slave in Tevinter. "With all that weighing down on you, how did you keep going?"_

_"I just focused on the goal, Aiden," he replied, voice slurring slightly. He was half-asleep, and there was no way he would remember this in the morning. I didn't blame him; it was the anniversary of his family's deaths. "One foot in front of the other. No way was I going to let the darkness behind me win. There was a light. I just… focused on it."_

_"That's it?"_

_"If you don't focus on your goal and get bogged down, you'll miss your chance." He smiled warmly. "That's all there is to it. If you're anxious, you'll miss your chance. You don't want that. I didn't… want that…" He nodded off then, passed out on the table._

_I went and got him a blanket. He always stayed over at these times anyway._

* * *

A day and a half later, and still, nothing made sense. We had it confirmed, _confirmed_ , that a Warden was going to die. No matter how much Riordan insisted the blow be his, I had my doubts. Practically everything had fallen to us. Why would this be anything different? 

But… could I do it? Could I really watch one of my friends die? Could I really sacrifice _myself_ , knowing what it would do to those left behind? Sure, we had the 'easy' route of Loghain dying, but at the same time, that felt too easy. I wanted him to live. I wanted him to live, and atone. Dying was easy; _living_ was hard. 

…My head hurt from all of this… 

"Lad, if you scrunch up your face more, you're going to glare people to death." The chiding voice came from the one person in the world I didn't want to ever lecture me: Loghain. "Whatever is bothering you, you can't let it show," he told me. "That's a price of being a leader. Maric hid his feelings with sarcasm. Drove me up the wall, but I knew why he did it." 

Much like Alistair hid his pain with sarcasm then. That was somehow amusing. "Sorry," I mumbled, glancing down. I really didn't want to talk to him. But, at the same time, was there anyone else to give advice? …Oghren, and Sten. Well, maybe not Sten. The Qunari were filled with 'purpose'. Oghren might be a good option. But Oghren also required me _talking_ about it, and I didn't want to. That left me with just Loghain. Damn it all. "What do you think?" 

"About?" 

"What Riordan said." 

"Ah, that." He fell silent, but I could tell he was giving it some very clear thought, so I just looked over everyone. We were still marching. So long as there was light, our army was going to _march_. Even if our feet bled. "I'm guessing your issue is that you feel as if you must sacrifice someone you know well." 

"…Yes." I would suppose that was the heart of the matter. "Shows me for getting close to people, right?" 

"No, you needed that, to survive." He shook his head. "Besides, I know the names of _every_ person I left behind at Ostagar. Every single one of them." He looked right at me, eyes calm, but pained. "That, more than anything, is something you need to hold onto when you become a leader, Aiden. That helps you really think about whether or not you need to make the sacrifice." 

"Like you did at Ostagar." 

"I will maintain, forever, that my decision there was the best that I could have made at the time, for the sake of the people under my command. No one else has to agree with it." And that was the main thing he was telling me. I just had to make the decision I could live with. Even if the whole world screamed otherwise. Because I didn't have to live with 'the whole world'. I _had_ to live with me. "Now, then, to go to your actual issue… might be best to stop fretting over it." What. "The choice might never be in your hands, Aiden. Every single soldier has their own ideas, their own choices. Same to your friends. Flames, probably especially them." He shook his head. "You cannot keep fretting over what could happen, Aiden. If you keep fretting, you'll lose your chance to make the decision at all." …Ha… "All of you lot are too damned skilled and kind for your age. What's likely going to happen is that one of you will seize the chance, and go for it." 

"You're not very happy about that thought, are you?" 

"Lad, I'm _hoping_ you lot will just let the old men die so that you young people can live. Even if it's the easy way out, I feel like it's a better alternative than letting you all die, especially when _I_ am the reason why there's not a bunch of choices for the matter." He sighed. "I just know Nuada. Boy was always a little broken by what duty required of him. Might take the same mentality now." That was indeed a thought. "I can take a guess at the rest of you. You're too damned used to doing everything alone. You can't even consider the possibility anymore." You know; I wasn't sure how much I liked that he could read my thoughts. "I taught Elspeth a thing or two about reading people, and stoic as you are, there are some clear signs. I remember feeling the same, once the rebellion ended." 

I just looked up at the sky and groaned. "Mind telling me what they are?" 

"Of course. You need a way to be kept on your toes." 

"Damn it, Loghain." 

"Um… is now a good time?" Both of us twisted at the voice, and I smiled as Mistress Layla walked up. "I can wait, if needed," she murmured. I thought it strange she was here. She had been fussing over Morrigan all morning. Perhaps Morrigan chased her away? "Um…" Right, answer her, now. 

"I think I answered Aiden's question as well as I can," Loghain replied. He glanced at me, and I nodded. "What is it, lass?" 

"Well, it is two things." She closed her eyes, and took a steadying breath. "The first thing is a thank you." It was _hilarious_ how his expression completely blanked. "I couldn't remember if I thanked you or not for the reassurance you gave me at Ostagar. That helped steady me enough to survive, ultimately. So, I wanted to thank you." She opened her eyes, and I saw what she left unsaid in them. 'I do not know what to think of you, but I wanted to say that.' "The second thing is that Nuada suggested you had a good idea for how to best set up an infirmary? Wynne and I were working on plans earlier." 

"Ah, yes, there was a set up from the rebellion that Rowan crafted. I'll swear to this day it cut our losses in half…" He and Mistress Layla fell into talks, and _I_ fell back. I had enough to think on, and I wasn't sure how much I liked that I had gotten some _good_ advice from him. 

So, instead, I decided to take care of something that had been bothering me. Cleon was hiding something. He had been hiding something when Riordan revealed to us the terrible secret. I knew it. Mistress Layla knew it. Lord Nuada knew it. And I knew Cleon knew we knew. In fact, he did not even look surprised when I fell in step with him. He simply looked and waited for me to decide the conversation. 

I decided, for both of our sakes, to just jump into it. 'You are hiding something,' I signed, but did not speak. This was our conversation. I didn't want anyone but someone in our group to even have a _chance_ at eavesdropping. 

'Yes,' he signed back immediately. He shook his head. 'I have complex feelings over it, and I do not know how to explain.' His eyes were sad. 'That is all.' 

'Does anyone know?' 

'Elspeth.' He _immediately_ made a face. 'Stubborn thing, just as always.' I had a feeling he also told her because, whatever this was, she was a 'neutral party'. It was hard to be offended. We were all feeling the strain. 'She noticed something was wrong and prodded until I slipped up. Reminds me of my twin.' 

'When will you tell us?' I knew he would, eventually. 

'Either when my head is in order, or when an explanation is required. Whichever comes first.' He sighed, shaking his head. 'I am sorry. This is not the time to be keeping secrets, I know.' 

'Cleon, relax.' I grasped his shoulder warmly. 'It is okay. Well, mostly.' I gave him a stern look. 'I am not certain I much like you going into a fight with your head muddled.' 

'Oh, I am not _that_ muddled.' He waved his hand reassuringly. 'I just do not know how to explain, because when I think of the explanation, my emotions go out of order.' And that was the main issue. Whatever he was hiding, it hurt him. 'I will be fine during the fight. I promise.' 

'I will hold you to that.' I smiled and he smiled back. 'Go bother someone to cheer up.' 

'Wynne seems like a good target. I can bother her about griffons!' His smile flashed into a grin, and he left, probably to do just that. 

Shaking my head with a little laugh, I glanced around, and saw Zevran watching me. He winked and waltzed over as soon as he realized he had been caught. 

"No, no, no," he teased, shaking his head. "You are not supposed to see me gazing longingly at you." Though he still smiled, his eyes turned serious. "Well, worryingly is probably a better description. You have been most tense lately." Of course he knew. We shared a tent. "So, what troubles you? Come, come, I am certain that with my handsomeness and wit, we can at least make a joke out of-" 

"The archdemon requires a sacrifice," I blurted. His blank expression told me that he hadn't been expecting… well, I think he hadn't expected me to be so brutally honest there. "That sacrifice… might have to be me." 

"I see." He closed his eyes and nodded. "Well…" He reached up to gently caress my cheek. "I think I'll bet on you surviving anyway. How's that?" 

"…If you're sure." 

"Not really. But, this is new territory for me too." He smiled softly and leaned up to kiss me. "Relax, and focus on what is here, mi amor. Just do that, and I'm sure to win my bet." 

…Yes. The battle. Everything would be pointless if we lost it. I just… had to focus… somehow… 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: So, a travel chapter! Last of them, really. Slowly crawling to the climax, everyone. 
> 
> Next Chapter – Interlude, Armies (second to last interlude) 


	112. Interlude - Armies

Interlude – Armies 

* * *

The mages and templars march from the Tower. Those that survived now go to walk into the greatest of battles, but not one hesitates. He's never been prouder of his templars. He's never been prouder to be Knight Commander of Kinloch Hold. 

They meet the main army on the highway, and fall in easily. He leaves his men, and his charges, and goes to look for Layla Amell, partly to be formal and partly to check in on her. 

He finds her, however, training among the soldiers, and he cannot help but stop and stare. The little girl he had carried back to her dorms after a nightmare… the young girl who had the quickest, cleanest Harrowing in the history of Kinloch Hold… the young woman who walked out of a nightmare with her head held high and haunted eyes… she was sparring with the soldiers, easily parrying and dodging with a rapier, a blade he has only truly seen in books. A companion of hers, an elf with tattoos on his face, cheers her on as she fights. 

He watches her duck and weave. He watches as she smiles at her victory, quick to offer her hand and her healing magic. 

He watches and realizes an error he might have made. Layla Amell is no longer a child. She is a soldier, a general… a _Warden_. It shows. By the Maker and His Bride, it shows. 

He's not entirely certain how happy he is to see that. 

* * *

He has seen her cast fire and ice with barely a thought. He has seen her knit up gaping wounds with a smile. As her teacher, as someone who liked to look after her, he had thought he had seen it all. 

But, as he goes to greet her, he pauses, realizing something. She does not use 'spells' as the Circle teaches. Her magic is freer now, wild yet controlled. She is a master of spells, an archmage of the highest caliber. Magic dances on her skin as she somehow channels it inward, increasing her strength enough to throw warriors three times her size as if she were throwing a paper ball. 

He watches, and is startled, because of all the things he expected to see, he had not expected this. But oh, he is proud. He is prouder than he ever thought he could be. To see her lead, to see the people trust a _mage_ despite what everyone teachers… he could not be any prouder of her. It makes him truly think a day may come where mages and non-mages can live side-by-side in harmony, watching her among the soldiers. 

But, he will admit; he is relieved when she turns towards him and her face lights up in a smile. "I'll be right there, Irving!" she calls, waving both hands to make sure he sees her. Her companion, a mage with raven-black hair and glittering gold eyes, looks on in amusement. "One mom-WAH!" And she trips in her enthusiasm, sparking a laugh from the group. 

Some things are constant, no matter how much changes. 

* * *

The hunters march from the forest, meeting other clans along the way. She smiles at them, and hides her fear. This is her first 'real' act as Keeper, and she knows her Clan is watching to see how she will lead. 

She holds back a sigh as they join the main army, checks her fear as she sees the shemlen eyeing them dubiously. Just because they are allies does not mean anything. She and hers will have to be cautious, in order to… 

The thought trails off as she sees the shemlen soldiers smile happily suddenly. She is confused as to what improved their moods so much, and creeps closer to find the answer. She is startled when she realizes they are smiling because of Cleon. They smile, saluting, and speak one at a time as his companion, a woman with short red hair and sharp but warm eyes, signs out what they say to him. 

The woman glances up, and smiles, nudging Cleon. He turns, and smiles as well, extending one hand, and she thinks of a legend Zathrian once told her. Of how a simple hunter would throw open the gates of paradise and guide the Elvhen to it. 

She had thought it a pretty, but ultimately fruitless, tale. But as she takes his hand and waits for his companion to translate for her, she wonders if maybe it is possible after all. 

* * *

He had leapt at the chance to march with the hunters. Keeper Lanaya's messengers had reached them just before they took the ships across the sea, heading to Sundermont so that the Keeper could keep a promise. And, so, here he is, with a bunch of shemlen. He can barely tolerate it, but for the chance to see Cleon again, he would endure. 

It hasn't been that long, but to the Clan, it feels like forever. He knows how much it hurts Lyna, and Merrill. And him. He and Cleon have been friends since they were children. He looks forward to fighting side-by-side. 

Except, when he sees Cleon in the shemlen camp, he cannot help but hesitate. It has not been that long, but Cleon looks far different. Moving like a shadow, but with the poise of the greatest of hunters. He thinks of Zaphikel, Cleon's first teacher, and thinks Cleon has completely emulated him, despite being far younger. 

He manages enough courage to call out Cleon's name, but gets no response. He calls again, but there is nothing. He wonders what to do, when a shemlen nudges Cleon and points to him. His spirit is soothed when Cleon turns and sees him, smiling brightly. The shemlen passes a piece of paper and a pen to Cleon, and Cleon runs over, scribbling something on it. 

_'I am deaf now, Fenarel.'_ The words on the paper are simple, but they highlight just how much Cleon has changed. _'Sorry. I did not think I would see anyone of the Clan. Thankfully, Alistair was near.'_ However, some things remain constant. _'Tell me of everyone? How are Lyna, Ashalle, and Merril?'_ Cleon's smile, for instance, is the same. That tells him that, no matter how much like Zaphikel Cleon unconsciously acts like, at his core, Cleon is the same. 

So, he takes the pen and writes down everything he can think of. 

* * *

When she arrives with the other mages, she thinks briefly about going to surprise Layla immediately. But she decides against it, mostly so that she can _really_ surprise her later and laugh at how she squeaks. So, instead, she hunts for someone she has not seen for a long, long time. She hunts for Aiden. 

She knows he's here. The messages from the Wardens all talk about how Aiden, her cousin, is the leader of the army. While some part of her can't believe it, the rest can. Aiden had always been the 'leader' of their little play group. Aiden had been the only one unafraid when her magic had gone wild, changing her coloring and destroying things. 

She hunts for him in the crowd, looking for a frail little boy with a spirit of steel and a heart of gold. Instead, she finds a giant with a sword as large as he is. A warrior… no, a master of arms who holds himself calm yet confident. She is… surprised. She never would have expected it, no matter how strong Aunt Adaia had been. 

She is even more surprised by realizing the messages had not exaggerated. Aiden _is_ the leader, and he snaps out orders easily, knowing they will be heard. 

"Neria?" She gasps as she realizes he sees her, recognizes her. "Give me a moment," he yells over. His companion, another giant with a similar weapon, but with strange bronze skin and white hair tightly braided, shakes his head. "Yes, Sten, I'm finishing this first, so just… hey, you, what are you doing? Put that back immediately." 

The soldier flinches back, chastised, but does not show resentment. Watching the interaction, she remembers how, when they were children, Aiden once wished that people would just _recognize_ elves and their potential. She smiles because she thinks he managed it, and she could not be happier. 

* * *

The soldiers march from Orzammar, and his group marches from even farther. The Legion of the Dead steps out of the shadows to combat the Blight, and it's mostly because he's curious. He remembers the leader of the Wardens, and wants to see if he's changed in the short time. 

He thinks the answer is 'yes' as he finds that Aiden lad in the middle of everything, shouting orders. He recognizes Oghren next to him, and notes that they stand similarly. Oghren managed to teach the boy how to be a 'real' berserker, and it shows. 

But he can also see the calm stillness that had caught his eye before. He sees the light of purpose that holds the boy steady. He grins, deciding that it was a good idea. It is a good idea, indeed, to leave the Deep Roads and fight on the surface. 

That boy pulled a miracle in the Roads, and now, he's certain, he's about to see one again. 

"Kardol?" the boy calls. He nods, giving a little salute. "I see you chose to come up!" The boy smiles and extends his hand. "Welcome to the insanity!" 

"Nah, this isn't insanity yet," he laughs. "But we're getting there. We're getting there." This is going to be entertaining. 

* * *

The Knight-Commander had insisted he come with the group leaving the tower, instead of simply remaining behind to guard. He thinks it's to see if a change of scenery will help him, even if that scenery is going to be bloody. He had thought about complaining, but decided against it. After all, he is morbidly curious if the darkspawn can do worse than the demon. 

Along the way, the Knight-Commander had drilled him, and he thinks he can recite strategies in his sleep. He thinks the Knight-Commander might be dragging him along to help out with coordinating the templars with the soldiers. After all, his first order had been to find the 'head tactician' of the army. 

He sighs, and moves through the crowd in a bit of a haze. It is so loud, yet unreal to him. He wonders if he is still in the dream, and the demon is still tormenting him. He wonders if he will ever get a good night's rest again, or feel as if the walls are not closing in on him whenever he is in an enclosed space. 

"Cullen? Cullen Rutherford?" He pauses at the call, curious as to who around here knew him by name. It takes him a couple of blinks to realize who the person is. The one who played a mental game of chess with him back at the Tower, and ended up losing an eye to Uldred. "I thought it was you," the man greets, and he struggles to remember a name. Nuada? He thinks it is 'Nuada', at least. Though, he could have sworn his eye was blue last they met. "A shame that I don't think we can continue our game here." Nuada grins, and he finds himself relaxing. A bit of grounding, a reassurance that what he had experienced then was 'real', that all of this was 'real'. "Looking for someone?" 

"Yes, the head tactician," he answers. He glances around, and notes Senior Enchanter Wynne standing nearby, shaking her head while smiling indulgently. "Did I interrupt something?" 

"Oh, I might have left mid-word in talking to her about infirmary things." Nuada's grin grows, clearly showing no shame. "And I'm the head tactician. Pleased to be working with you, Cullen." 

"I see." Everything had changed when he was freed from the demon, but he is glad that this person seems 'constant'. "Well, maybe we'll have our game later." 

"I like the way you think." 

* * *

The forces march from Redcliffe, but even as he sings songs to help them keep in time, he cannot help but look over at Nuada. They are almost to Denerim, and now, more than ever, is the time to worry. 

However, as he looks, he realizes how much Nuada has changed, grown, in so short of a time. Nuada smiles more, and leans on others. Nuada gives his trust more freely, and balances playing the fool with competent tactician. Nuada laughs far more freely, teasing the golem, Shale, over its dislike for birds. 

He thinks of how Nuada always was worried about meeting the expectations of those around him. He thinks Nuada succeeded beyond anyone's wildest dreams, and is so very proud of his friend. He knows Bryce and Eleanor would have been beaming. 

After all, Nuada and his friends have created a miracle. They have an army to replace the one lost at Ostagar. Now, they can only pray it will be enough. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So, each of the scenes is the different POV reflecting on the four main Wardens. They are, in order: Greagoir and Irving (Layla), Lanaya and Fenarel (Cleon), Neria and Kardol (Aiden), and Cullen and Teagan (Nuada). (Fenaral is one of the temporary companions in the Dalish origin). It's based on the cutscene you get in game where everyone is marching off. Some of the scenes contain references to the 'opening dialogue' for each of the four origin chapters. And references to the achievements you get if you reach level 20 in certain classes: Archmage (mage), Shadow (rogue), and Master of Arms (warrior). Each scene also features one companion; Elspeth and Loghain were not included in it, though. 
> 
> Next Chapter – The Siege of Denerim begins at last with Nuada (meaning this will be the last author's note until the Archdemon is dead) 


	113. Chapter 99) King's Speech

Chapter 99) King's Speech 

* * *

_"And so, I urge you knights to fight with courage and valor! Let the tournament commence!" The crowd's cheer shook the seats as the jousting tournament began. Those who won here would go on to the Grand Tourney in the Free Marches, so it was quite the tournament._

_I sat with the royal family, as this tournament was also King Maric publically acknowledging and honoring Father for his diplomacy. But, even though I pretended to pay attention to the fighting, I was more focused on the speech. I could see why many called him a good public speaker. He knew just the right combination of friendliness and grandness to capture everyone's attention._

_I just hoped he continued to be as good of a person as he was a king._

* * *

The city was on fire. It almost looked like a deranged sunset. 

"Damn these things," Loghain whispered. At Aiden's personal request, Loghain was 'assigned' to me, as I was the most likely person who could best utilize his skills, and for the comfort of the soldiers. They snarled at him, but he ignored it. I imagine he got used to being looked down upon, thanks to the court. "I feel like I'm back at the Rebellion." 

"I wish we were fighting something human," I murmured. The army was gathering up, waiting for Alistair to step onto the makeshift stage set up. I couldn't remember whose idea it was for him to address the troops. "Are you worried for Anora?" 

"Considering that mess?" That was a good point. "Still, this is everything your group has been working for." 

"Yes." It almost seemed unreal. "Did the last battles of the Rebellion feel disconnected?" 

"So much so that Maric and I would do stupid things just to make sure things were real. Rowan gave us the most scathing lectures…" Loghain tilted his head to the side. "What is that singing?" 

"If you're talking about the old ethereal song that has no words and you feel in your bones, Loghain, then that's the Archdemon." I could see it flying from here, circling the city. "That's how the Wardens knew this was a Blight." 

"You know; if they had actually explained things, I think I might have been a little more cooperative." Ha… "The lad is on the stage." Yes, Alistair was. I hoped he would be all right. At his request, he was up on that stage alone. 

"Soldiers," Alistair called, catching everyone's attention. I knew they were judging him right now. "Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde." Leliana must have been giving him lessons. He pitched his voice perfectly, so that he could be heard, but not be considered yelling. "Gaze upon them now, but fear them not." He gestured to our group. "Look on these men and women I am proud to call my friends. This is home to only some of them, yet still, they all fight with valor and triumph. Without them, none of us would be here. Without their leaders, the Wardens…" He nodded to us four, slight smile on his face. I knew it was a little sad, as this was essentially him 'officially' saying that he was leaving, but at the same time, he was so proud of all of us. "The darkspawn would have already won." Then, to my surprise, Alistair began walking off the makeshift stage. "Today, we save Denerim!" His voice was firm and confident. "Today, we avenge the death of my brother, Cailan!" He held himself certain and relaxed, the air of someone who knew they would win. "But, most of all, today, we show the Wardens that we honor all that they have done for us, continue to do for us! So, my good soldiers!" Alistair raised his hand and the army started cheering loud enough to shake the trees. "For Fereldan! For our people! For the Grey Wardens!" 

…Well, no one was ever going to say that Alistair couldn't make speeches. Holy flames. The army just charged forward with not a shred of fear in their demeanor. 

Loghain and I quickly made our way to the front, using our shields to bash through enemy lines and make an opening. The darkspawn were sent flying as the army crashed into them. Blood rained and bodies fell as we took advantage of our numbers and variety. Spells _hammered_ into the back lines of the enemy as the warriors took the front and the rogues handled the flanks. 

I had been the one to orchestrate most of this strategy, but even I didn't think it would work this well. Were the darkspawn weaker? Were we stronger? I had no idea, truthfully. It could be both. But after Ostagar, after Lothering, there was something absolutely satisfying in completely ripping through the enemy. 

Of course, that wouldn't last. We were outnumbered ten to one. It was clear that with the element of surprise lost, we were _not_ going to hold out. 

"All right, tactician, give me some mildly good news," Aiden asked. When the fighting calmed, our group clustered together to talk, and for Layla and Wynne to heal whatever injuries we had. "I will literally take anything." 

"Well, we have our way in at last," I noted lightly. Movement caught my attention, and I watched Riordan slip away out of the corner of my eye. I barely checked the urge to sigh. Secrecy was going to damn the Wardens one of these days. The worst part was that he was gone before I could say anything. "Have we word from the scouts, Cleon?" Some had used the fighting as a smokescreen to slip in. 

'Yes, it seems like there are four main generals,' Cleon signed. Leliana helpfully told Loghain what he was saying, and strangely enough, Loghain didn't show any signs of distaste that an Orlesian was helping him. 'Market, Port, Alienage, and the Castle.' Why were they in the Alienage? I could get the others, but… did the Archdemon _know_ that it was Aiden's home? I hoped not, because that had some very disturbing implications. 

"When you consider that we need to continuously hold the gate, we're going to have to split into five groups." All eyes turned to me. "You all want me to pick, and pick fast, don't you?" I could only sigh at the nods. "Well, since that is the case, no one is allowed to complain." 

'Fen'harel's teeth, just get on with it.' 

"Cleon, you're in the market with Wynne and Shale." Here was hoping no one asked why I was picking these groups. I _did_ have explanations, but they would take too long. "Sten and Oghren, lead the soldiers who remain here. Layla, head to the port with Elsepth and Morrigan. Aiden, save your home with Zevran and Leliana. I will take Alistair and Loghain to the castle." I glowered when I saw some open their mouths, ready to yell. "I _told_ you that you weren't allowed to complain." 

"After all, there's no time," Aiden sighed. He glanced up at something. "Everyone, move to the right. Now." It really said something about us that we obeyed without question. It _also_ really said something when a giant rock landed next to us, likely thrown by an ogre, and none of us really reacted. "Steel yourselves, and, if you want, say your farewells." It was time to _go_. 

I didn't really plan on saying anything. Based on the looks on their faces, neither did Layla, Aiden, or Cleon. Our friends, however, had other plans. I figured that out when Wynne gently touched my arm to catch my attention as I went to walk away. 

"So, this is it," she murmured. She looked out over the flames. "This is where it all ends." She turned to me, smiling. "Whatever happens now, to either of us, know that I am proud to know you, Nuada." 

"Is this the part where we all make sappy little goodbyes?" I joked. She simply laughed. "I'm glad to have met you, Wynne. Try to hold on, if you can." 

"I shall do my best. I would hate to die before everything is over, at least." She reached up to stroke my hair, and I was instantly reminded of Mother. "Maker watch over you." She walked off then, heading over to Layla, but I wasn't alone for long. Oghren, apparently, had also decided to talk. 

"So, this is it," Oghren said. He looked rather resigned to everything. "Huh. Wish I had a bit more ale for this." 

"Sorry, I don't have any on me," I replied. He laughed. "It's been an honor getting to fight with you." 

"Honor?" He laughed again, but this time, it was a bit bitter. "Nobody's looked at me and seen honor in a long time, Nuada. Then again, nobody ever played wingman either." That was going to be a memory I cherished. It really was. It was too funny. "A drunken disgrace of a warrior, finding the will to keep going and fighting. All because you helped me find the one woman in the sodding world who might put up with me." This was a lot more emotional than I expected from him. "I owe you kids a lot. I consider it a fine honor to fight for your cause. And if I fall, it's a good death." He smiled. "Let the stone turn red from the blood of heroes. Let us show the enemy our hearts, and then show them theirs. Today, I will be the warrior you all saw in me." With those rather inspiring words, he walked over to Aiden. Thudding steps behind me, though, hinted I had another visitor. 

"So, the archdemon is next, is it?" Shale, of all people, had approached me. "Strange. Part of me is apprehensive," she continued, looking almost put out. "I would almost say that I feel concern for something other than myself, even maybe for some soft, squishy companions, but that would be silly, wouldn't it?" 

"The silliest," I teased, mostly to reassure her. I thought she even smiled. "Watch out for Cleon, please. Things are going to be chaotic." 

"Oh, very well. I suppose Cleon would be doomed without me anyway." She sighed. "Also, do try to not get swallowed whole by the archdemon. If the beast were to fly about afterwards and poop it out, irony would dictate that it would land on me." What. "I couldn't take it." I think I cracked a rib to keep from laughing. "Well, I suppose this is it. There's a burning city to invade or something." Shale! "Have fun storming the castle." Damn it, now I knew I cracked some ribs. I also knew I was smiling as Shale wandered off, and that cheer didn't fade as I saw Sten walk up, face Sten. 

"Are you ready?" Of course those would be the first words out of his mouth. "We have reached the battlefield at last," he mused, looking almost excited. I thought he was proud that we trusted him enough to hold the gate alongside Oghren. 

"Thank you for everything, Sten," I told him. Really, it needed to be said. "We all appreciate it." 

"But I have done nothing." He shook his head. "You four have carried us this far. Do not doubt that. All I did was hit things until they died." He shook his head. "The enemy waits. Be certain to grant him the death he asks of us." 

"Of course. It's only fair." 

"Ataash varin kata, Ashkaari." If I survived this, I was definitely asking him for a translation. "You will be fine." He left, no doubt going to say his piece to the others. But I, again, wasn't left alone for long. Leliana decided she was next, after all. 

"So, this is it," she breathed, looking out over everything. "We've come so far." She _definitely_ had a point there. "It's so strange knowing that all our fates will be decided in a matter of hours." 

"Leliana, get out of my head," I teased. She laughed. "It's like a story." 

"Yes, it is." She closed her eyes. "We stand on the precipice before the greatest battle of our age. I wonder if the heroes of old ever felt like this." I thought of the 'Garahel' I saw in the Fade. I wished I had been in a better frame of mind to ask 'him' questions. "But, I am not afraid. We go to fight for a good cause, and there is nowhere else I would rather be." She opened her eyes, though, and frowned. "However, I will be extremely cross with you if you don't live through this. I intend to sing ballads of you and Layla." The thought made me smile. "I will see you again soon. But this day, we forge a legend of our own." Humming a song, she skipped away, heading over to Cleon for some reason. 

"Glorious, is it not?" Zevran, of course, took that as an opportunity to waltz up to the music. "So, now we all head into the city to face the archdemon, hmm?" he kept his tone light and cheerful. "Excellent. I've been meaning to teach this dragon a lesson. It is most distressing, not having your letters returned." Ha! "It should have really stayed in whatever hole it crawled out of. I am certain it will agree once we are done this day." 

"Try not to get distracted by Aiden's sexy ass, okay?" I joked. He laughed. "Watch your back." 

"I shall. You do the same. No getting eaten. Unless you think it's really important, of course." He patted me on the shoulder, and left, glancing at someone behind him almost knowingly. 

I was actually very surprised to see Morrigan shyly approach. "Tis been a long journey," she whispered. "To think, it seems like not long ago you and I were dealing with two unconscious bodies in the Wilds." That was true. Morrigan had been with us since almost the beginning of this crazy adventure. "But this is not the time to linger. I simply wished to inform you of something, so that you do not worry." 

"What is it?" I asked, curious. I knew there was some big secret involving her. Elspeth had hinted that to me, though she spoke around it. "Is everything all right?" 

"Yes." Her voice hinted that she wished things could be different. "It is simply that I do not intend to linger around after this." Was _this_ why Cleon had been out of sorts recently? "You all head to your destinies, and I will head to mine. But I am… glad to have spent time with you all. I did not know what friendship was, but I would gladly consider… most of you… that." She smiled shyly, and it shook. "Live gloriously, Nuada. This will not be the end." She fled. I had no other word for it, and some part of me wondered if she was holding back tears. It did not quite seem like 'her', but then again, very little about that conversation had seemed like her. 

Elspeth passed by then, on her way to something else. She gave me a smile, and a hug. "Please, try to keep your promise to me," she whispered. It took me a second to remember what promise she meant: the one I made all the way back at Ostagar. "I know you might not get a choice, but please, try." 

"Okay," I whispered back, hugging her tightly. "However, you must keep your promise to me too." 

"Okay." She stepped back then, and there was really nothing else for us to say. We were twins, and we were Couslands. We knew our duty. So, she ran off to continue whatever her task was, and I decided it was time for _me_ to walk. Alistair and Loghain were waiting, after all. 

"Everything good?" Alistair asked. Loghain rolled his eyes, and Alistair shot him a glare. "You need to say anything to Layla or Aiden or Cleon?" 

"At this point, I don't think any of us _have_ anything to say," I pointed out. We'd been working together too long for us to say anything as odd as a goodbye. "So, no, there's nothing." 

"Well, all right. I, however, need to say something before all of this starts." Alistair's voice was surprisingly serious. "It's been an honor, fighting by your side, Nuada. I'm glad we met." 

"I am as well." I grinned. "You've been a good friend." 

"Glad we're agreeing." He looked playfully stern. "I'm saying this now. Be careful. You said you'd help me be king, and I'm not letting you off if you go dying or something." 

"Oh, I wouldn't die before giving you the overprotective brother speech. You're _marrying_ my twin, remember?" 

"Yeah, I kind of can't forget that part." 

"Are you two done?" Loghain asked dryly. Alistair shot him another glare; I simply rolled my eyes. "There is little time to waste. The more you talk, the higher the chances we will not complete our objectives." 

"Let the friends banter, Loghain," I protested, pouting slightly. Loghain smiled slightly, but shook his head. He truly did not think it the time. "Well, I suppose you're right. The darkspawn won't slay themselves, after all." 

Let the battle begin. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Cleon in the Market 


	114. Chapter 100) Market Brawl

Chapter 100) Market Brawl 

* * *

_"Tamlen, take the right," I shouted, as I took the left. This was a larger hunt than normal. We had two great bears, and we could not let them escape. Not with this being a rather lean year. "Lyna!"_

_Lyna dropped down easily, right on top of one of the bears, and stabbed it in the neck. As it roared, its fellow bear was disoriented, allowing Tamlen and I to swoop down and catch get the kills._

_When they fell, the three of us shared a grin and a laugh. This was our biggest hunt yet!_

* * *

I had no idea what was worse: the smell of smoke and burning corpses, or the fact that I felt strangely used to it. Rotten food and scattered herbs also joined the smells, wafting about under the smoke. I was more irritated by the constant scent of burning lavender than I was of the mutilated corpses I ran by. This adventure might just have knocked some sanity from my head. 

The ground trembled under my feet, and I paused to check what it was. Shale and the golems again. They formed the main attacking force, and I could see just why they were once viewed as a miracle. They fought tirelessly, continuously, obeying Shale's commands with little hesitation. They did not flinch from fire or wince from pain. They didn't grimace when they stepped on a corpse. 

Yeah, _that_ was probably the worst. Me actually finding sanity in the creation of the golems. 

I ducked under a teetering market stall as a rain of arrows thudded into the enemies. While Shale broke enemy lines, I had the Dalish Hunters climb the intact buildings and fire from relative safety. It worked fairly well, though there was one big problem. Literally big. Ogres. 

I ground my teeth as I saw one chuck a burning stall at the roof of a nearby house, and watched the hunters there burn alive. Nothing I could do, but it hurt anyway. There were so few of us. 

When the arrows cleared, I darted from the shadows, slipping within the ogre's guard and slashing the ligaments behind the knee. As it fell, mouth open in what had to be a roar of pain, I jumped up and slammed my daggers into its eyes. When it hit the ground with a tremor that made my teeth rattle, I slit its throat for good measure, and jumped out of the way when I sensed magic blooming beneath my feet. 

Wynne, Lenaya, and the Keepers and Firsts who joined our fight… they were mostly in charge of keeping us alive, but sometimes, they had enough time to fight instead. There was something glorious at seeing an ogre be devoured by plant roots. There really was. 

Something glinted, and I turned to see what it was. Based on the good armor, and the way it gestured, I guessed that I had found the general of the market at last. Good, since that was the whole reason why I went ahead on my own. 

I blended into the shadows, using them as cover as I got closer. I noticed that the general had set up outside of Eamon's estate, and actually seemed to be paying attention to someone behind it. Bad move. Assassins were always deadly to those who couldn't see the coming, and Zevran had just shown me a trick for finding gaps in armor before all of this. 

I leapt form the shadows, and had my knife through its throat before it could even turn around. It struggled, trying to at least take me with it, but I twisted, and sliced its head clean off. I grinned as they fell, feeling vindicated. I had _told_ Wynne that I could kill the general quickly if I went alone, and look at that, I was right. 

Movement caught my attention, and I looked up to see who exactly it had been attacking. It took me a couple of blinks to realize I was looking at Anora. Her hair wasn't in its proper bun, her dress was ripped and dirtied, and she was bleeding from an injury to her arm. 

She said something, based on her mouth moving. I covered an ear and shook my head, hoping she figured it out. She seemed to and, in a startling move, used the blood from her injury to quickly write what she said on the broken fountain next to us. Well damn. 

'Your timing is impeccable. That thing was trying to drag me off.' Oh, great, now I was wondering how many new broodmothers were going to be born from this attack. 'So, I thank you.' She pointed to the estate, before writing again. 'I managed to evacuate the civilians into here and the Cousland Estate. So long as the big ones do not go throwing things again, we should be fine.' 

I nodded, and hesitated before cutting my own palm and writing next to her words: 'Got it. I will prioritize the ogres. Can you keep the people within calm?' 

'Yes, for however long you need.' She nodded once, bobbed a little curtsey that I felt was more habit than anything, and ran back inside. 

I watched her go, more than a little startled. Perhaps… I never gave her enough credit. That was almost a shame. It took a lot of courage, to keep things calm in a time like this. 

I turned away, glaring as I saw more ogres. Easily ten, maybe even twenty. Well, if I was going to make up for that possible mistake, then I had to make sure she stayed alive. 

Time to hunt some ogres. This was going to be fun. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter – Layla in the Port 


	115. Chapter 101) Naval Force

Chapter 101) Naval Force 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_"The water is so blue…" I whispered, peeking over the railing. The boat rocked with each crash of a wave, but the jounery from Kirkwall seemed so smooth. "It is pretty." I was not sure why I was talking, though. The templars escorting me did not say a single word to me as we crossed the sea. "I wonder what Fereldan is like."_

_"Brown." The voice startled me, and I glanced up tentatively at one of the templars. They were wearing a wry grin. "Fereldan is very brown, little mage."_

_"Is it?" I tilted my head curiously. "Why?"_

_"Dirt and muck gives the place character."_

_"Why?"_

_"Oh, dear, Maker."_

* * *

The docks were slick with blood. Corpses bobbed up and down in the water, almost like apples. Darkspawn crawled about the port like maggots. The smell was horrifying and nauseating. 

"Avoid thunder and fire spells!" I snapped out orders without a care, though. I led from the front lines, standing with the soldiers Elspeth commanded as I coordinated the mages. "Keep up the healing! Block the emissaries!" It felt odd, shouting orders like this. Normally, it was Aiden or Nuada who yelled, while I focused on the infirmary. But it seemed like this group of soldiers would not listen to anyone but me. "Neria, need a shield!" 

The shield came up just in time to intercept a barrage of magic. I grit my teeth and looked around the area, hunting for something, _anything_ that could give us an advantage. We made a mistake, backing them into a corner. They fought hard for a chance to break through, and we could not get behind. 

"Assist the front lines! They're being massacred!" Screams held my attention, and I tried not to focus on the people who fell. If I did, I would know their names. I would know their likes, dislikes, dreams. I could not focus on them now. I could not apologize to them now. I had a mission, a goal, and I had to see it through. 

It was easier to watch the Fereldan soldiers die. I did not know them. But the very thought made me ill. I wondered if this was why Commander Duncan had always kept a certain distance. I wondered if this was why you always heard of 'war kings' being aloof and skilled. 

"Layla." Elspeth appeared next to me, blood splattered and missing half of the arrows in her quiver. Her bow was slung on her back, and she held a bloody sword. The darkspawn must have broken through the front to catch the archers off guard. I wondered how many died. "There are ships," she informed me. My mind blanked for a second. "There are ships and they are perfectly intact." Was she suggesting what I thought she was suggesting? "I do not know if they are armed. But they are there, and the darkspawn are not near." She was. She was, and I remembered how she did this when we retook Highever. 

"Neria! You and your group follow Elspeth!" I shouted. Elspeth smiled slightly, pleased. "Try not to take too long." I did not think we could hold on much longer like this. 

"It shouldn't. Darkspawn don't seem to like water much." She disappeared into the chaos, leading some soldiers to the docks and ships. I was glad she did not mention how they could be massacred before even reaching the docks. It was enough of a worry without someone else acknowledging it. 

"Form up and hold the line!" Without Neria, we had to change our defenses. "Prioritize barriers and healing!" 

Thudding steps make me pause, and fear pooled in my stomach as I saw an ogre roar, and throw a boulder straight at me. But I recovered my wits and called on the Arcane Markings, focusing all my strength into my arms, and what magic I had left on telekinesis. With that combination, I caught the boulder, even as my arms screamed, and the stone crunched underneath my feet. Glaring, I threw it back, and launched nearby fallen weapons into the air, holding them steady with telekinesis before wrapping them in magic and launching them like arrows into the darkspawn horde. 

They screeched and tried to run, and in that chaos, I found my target. The darkspawn general here was a genlock emissary, and the darkspawn instinctively looked to it for guidance. 

I drew my rapier and charged forward, manipulating my own blood to keep from falling on my face as I slipped in the muck. When the general tried to attack, I seized its blood, boiling it to hold it steady as I came in close and slammed my rapier through its eye, and straight out of the back of its skull. 

As it fell, I heard explosions. At first, I thought it was just my own head imagining the sound for drama, but when I turned, I saw that was not the case. Elspeth had seized control of the ships, and they _had_ been armed, meaning that both cannon fire and magic bombarded the darkspawn from behind. 

So, we had the future queen of Fereldan utilizing a naval force under the orders of a Circle Mage turned magic-warrior Warden, who just caught a boulder, launching a bunch of weapons, utilized blood magic, and drove a rapier through an enemy's skull. 

I wonder how the bards will sing of this. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Alienage with Aiden


	116. Chapter 102) Alienage's Strength

Chapter 102) Alienage's Strength 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"Daddy, why do you think elves are strong?" It was one of the constants in my life, all five years of it. Daddy saying that elves were strong, stronger than anyone, even themselves, think. He said it so much that Mommy mocked and teased him for it._

_"Well, Aiden, it's simple." Daddy turned to me with a smile, lifting me up to sit on his lap. "Look at everything we endure in order to stay happy in the Alienage."_

_"Like eating rats?"_

_"Yes, just like that, though your mother makes the finest rat stew." His smile softened, though, and he tugged me in a hug. "We endure and survive so much. That's why we're strong, Aiden. No matter what comes our way, we will survive."_

_"…I don't get it."_

_"You will when you're older, Aiden. I know you will."_

* * *

The darkspawn certainly were keen on breaking into the Alienage. Too bad for them that this was my home and I knew all the secret ways inside. 

"Good hit, lad!" Kardol laughed as the two of us jumped down from a nearby roof to crush an ogre's skull. Between the two of us, it shattered, and the blood rained down as we landed. "Time to get the rest of the nug humpers." 

"I'm going to check on the Alienage itself," I told him. He nodded, eyes telling me he expected that. "I trust you and the other dwarves won't have trouble, but shout if you need me." I waved as I ran inside, eyes darting around as I examined my home. Buildings were toppled. Some were simply burned to the ground. I could see corpses strewn about, some whole and some in pieces. But even through the smell of blood and smoke, I recognized the same calming scent of the vhenadahl, gentle and calming as it always was when winter came. 

I slowed down as I reached it, the great and towering tree that symbolized 'home' for me. Even now, I was tempted to climb, and look up at the sky. That it still stood, proud and stretching to the sky… that it still rested here, with roots deep in the dirt… it symbolized stability to me, now more than ever. I could almost imagine it watching over me, over everyone, with calm eyes and a reassuring smile. Then again, maybe after meeting the Lady of the Forest, I was just more inclined to believe _every_ tree had some sort of spirit resting within. 

That the wind blew right then, and the leaves fluttered almost like waving hands, did not help the mental image. Ha, look at how crazy I am. Taking comfort from a _tree_. But, I needed to see it. In light of everything, I really did. 

"Aiden!" To my utter shock, Shianni and Soris ran up, both of them armed. Soris even had the crossbow from when we broke into the estate. "Oh, I am so glad to see you!" Shianni said, not even bothering to stop before hugging me. Apparently, no matter how bloody I was, she would still greet me with a hug. Good to know. "How are you? Are you okay?" 

"I think that's a question I need to ask _you_ two," I retorted. I heard rumbling in the distance. Rain? "Tell me about the Alienage. I know it's under attack." 

"Yes, there's a large group approaching, and the gates won't hold." She actually laughed. "But then, here you are. The knight in shining armor saving the day. Again." 

"I don't think my armor is very shiny with all the blood." 

"Blood is shiny too." 

"You're ridiculous." I shook my head, trying to get serious. "Regardless, I and mine will handle this. You two-" 

"No." For the second time today, I was stunned, and this time, Soris was to blame. "No, cousin, this is our home as much as it is yours," he pointed out. "I'd rather die trying to help than sit around, knowing what's coming. Besides, I'm not a bad shot." We had this conversation before. Back when we went to save the girls after our disastrous wedding. "You might be able to do it alone, but I know I can help, and I want to." The exact same words. "Even if it's just one arrow." 

So, what else could I say? "Okay," I whispered. Both of them beamed. "Okay, cousins. Let's go be the heroes." I gave them my sternest look. "But you _will_ listen to orders, understand?" 

"Does that go for the rest of us too?" The words made me still and stare as Alarith came walking up with a group of elves. All of them were armed. "This is our home, Aiden," Alarith gently chided. I could only shake my head, chuckling at the madness of all of this. "Last time we were in danger, you and Soris went in, and you took all the blame. This time, we fight too." This was so ridiculous. "Tell us what to do, and we'll fight for however long we can." 

"Well, I'd be wasting precious seconds arguing." Sometimes the greatest strength was found in the most unlikely of places. "Then, in that case, you all are going to stay back and defend the buildings, prioritizing where the young and old are hiding." I heard something shatter in the distance, and knew it was the gate. "We're going to meet them." 

"Maker be with you, Aiden!" The blessing followed me as I ran straight for the gates of the Alienage. I could see Zevran and Leliana coordinating the dwarves to meet the darkspawn as they flooded the area. I was coming from a slightly different direction, but that wouldn't matter. 

With the skill I had harnessed, with the power awakened in me by Avernus's potion… it wouldn't matter at all which direction I came from. All who stood in my way were going to die. Plain and simple, really. 

With a roar, I charged through, breaking clear through the lines. I would let Zevran and Leliana handle the flanks. The front was _mine_ , and I would lead from it. My blood thrummed with the thrill of the fight, and while the red would make me ill later, I ignored it all for now. 

I found the general easily, an emissary launching a spell right at me. It slammed into me, and for one brief moment, I saw my vision blacken. But I grit my teeth and refused to yield. I brushed off the next couple of spells as I closed in, anger in my belly, fire in my spirit. When I got close enough, I called on the templar tricks Alistair showed me, and crashing into it, using all my strength to cleave it in two with a single blow. As the pieces fell, I turned and raised my weapon in the air, rallying the troops just as Lord Nuada taught me. The effect was instantaneous, and I swore they become stronger with the motivation. 

So, I grinned and turned, daring the enemy to come. You wanted to attack my home, Archdemon? Time you saw just how much of a mistake that really was! 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Nuada in the Castle 


	117. Chapter 103) Castle's Liberation

Chapter 103) Castle's Liberation 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_"Uncle Maric, why are there holes in the ceiling?"_

_"Holes?" He looked confused for a moment, glancing up before nodding. "Oh, those holes." He smiled at me. "Well, why do you think they're there?"_

_"I think they're murder holes, crafted so that the guard can easily deal with invaders." I shrugged. "Are they?"_

_"Well, yes, but I like using them for a very different reason." His smile morphed into a grin. "Like watching Loghain run around trying to find me for some meeting while I'm lounging with a good book."_

_"You can do that?"_

_"Come on; I'll show you."_

_We even brought snacks and a bunch of books. Uncle Maric missed an entire's afternoon worth of meetings, but he and I had a lot of fun. I could tell he loved that more than anything._

* * *

Morrigan, Leliana, Zevran, and Elspeth all worked together to ensure that the entire army had a very large supply of _very good_ bombs and poisons. I probably used half of them in the castle. After all, I had an advantage over the darkspawn, and the Archdemon. I knew most of the secret passages and, more importantly, I knew which ones led to the murder holes in the ceiling and walls. Darkspawn couldn't kill what they couldn't see, and even their mages couldn't really do much if they had no idea where the attack was coming from. 

It was almost entertaining how they didn't think to look up. Almost. 

"Fergus, I need you to take the right. Teagan, focus on the left." My part of the offensive was headed by Redcliffe and Highever soldiers primarily, as I had sent the rest to reinforce Cleon in the market and Layla at the port. "Do we have a message from Aiden yet?" I asked, glancing over at a nearby scout. He shook his head. "Of course." A flash of light caught my attention. "Tell the templars that they need to move forward." The darkspawn mages were the only ones left, as they conjured up barriers to protect themselves. "The groups in the passages need to return. Their part is over." 

"Sir!" The scout bowed, and raced off, easily meandering through the chaos to deliver my messages. 

I held myself apart, splattered with drying, itchy patches of blood. I kept my grip on my sword loose as it rested by my side. With the initial bout of fighting done, I had to ensure the group was moving 'correctly' to best carry out the objective. 

My focus went to the center, where Alistair was fighting. It was clear even to a child that he was the 'focal point' of the army. The soldiers' morale was higher than could ever be expected, having their new king, still not officially crowned, fighting alongside them. That he fought _well_ was another point in his favor. Fereldans valued loyalty and strength of arms. The way that Alistair fought proved he had both, and the soldiers were willing to fight, and die, in his name. Many did both. I had long since become inured to the smell of death, but that did not mean it didn't hang above us like a specter. 

Unexpected movement caught my attention, and I lunged forward when I realized the darkspawn general, a Hurlock emissary, had launched a spell right at Alistair's back, while Alistair was busy keeping some Shrieks off of a fallen soldier. I grit my teeth as I realized I wasn't going to make it, and I opened my mouth to yell for him, to catch his attention in the hopes he could mitigate some of the damage. 

But as I did, there was a blur of motion, and suddenly, Loghain was intercepting the spell. His shield _shattered_ , as did the armor behind it. The pieces flew, leaving bloody trails as Loghain dropped to a knee, struggling to breathe as his abdomen bled. 

I changed my objective from 'warning Alistair' to 'slaughtering the general'. It attacked me, but I used the templar tricks Alistair taught me to dampen the spell. It still burned, but in that pain, I found strength. Power bubbled through my blood, and everything seemed heightened. The scent of blood just made me faster, anticipating the awaiting kill. The enemies dying nearby just built up fervor, delight in the coming fight. 

I fell on the general with all the rage of a _dragon_ , bringing the sword down again and again until the corpse was nothing but a gory mess. The nearby darkspawn trembled from fear, sliding back automatically and making them perfect targets for surrounding soldiers. While the darkspawn found me frightening, my allies just found courage. A hero was a savior or a demon, depending on whether you asked their friends or foes. 

With the general dead, I turned back to Alistair and Loghain. Alistair seemed mostly unharmed, bearing only superficial injuries. Loghain, however, had definitely taken a very bad hit. 

"Why did you save me?" Alistair asked. His voice was soft, hesitant, and while he did not move to help Loghain, neither did he move away. "I don't get it. Why did you…?" 

"Don't know," Loghain hissed. His face was paler than normal. "Can't really answer that one." He smiled tightly, like he was laughing at himself. "Body just moved automatically." I thought that was an answer right there, personally. He had _automatically_ moved to protect Alistair, Uncle Maric's only living son. It could be that he confused Alistair and Uncle Maric accidentally; the two had an uncanny resemblance. It could be that he had wanted to 'make up' for not saving Cailan. I had no idea, and I knew he didn't either. 

But either way, he had moved automatically, and that meant it had something to do with Uncle Maric. That meant it had something to do with Fereldan, the country he loved. Regardless of anything else, Loghain proved that even at his worst, he remained loyal to those two things. Regardless of anything else, he had just saved the king, after failing to save his successor. Damn, the bards were going to have fun with _this_ one. 

"Fall back for the healers," I ordered, crouching so I could sling his arm around my shoulders. "Alistair, lead the soldiers and templars through the castle and-" 

An earsplitting _screech_ startled me, and I looked up. Everyone looked up. So, everyone saw the almost hilariously tiny person falling from the stupidly large dragon flying overhead. Everyone saw how that dragon, that Archdemon, had its wing sliced in half. Everyone saw how the Archdemon crashed down on Fort Drakon, alive but pinned. 

Riordan… you might not have killed it, but you made sure that we could end this. For that, alone, I would thank you, even if I dreaded the choice of who was going to die. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Interlude, Riordan 


	118. Interlude - Dying Warden

Interlude – Dying Warden 

* * *

He knows he's being overbearing and unreasonable. He is old enough to recognize when he is making a bad decision. But he makes it anyway, for one key reason: he does not want any of those five to die. 

He is old. He is hearing the Calling, all the clearer thanks to the Archdemon. In truth, he should have gone to the Deep Roads by now, but while there is a Blight, all hands were needed. So, he slams the heel of his palm into his temple, to knock the song out of his head temporarily, and wills himself to keep going. 

Oh, he can admit that there are other reasons. He would rather die in one last battle than as an anonymous corpse in the Deep Roads. But that desire is not enough to make him foolish. He is too old for such nonsense. No, again, what drives him the most is that he is old, and they are not. He is dying, and he wants them to live. 

He had heard much of Alistair from Duncan; Duncan had _adored_ the boy, praising him often, boasting of the little achievements. Like a proud father, or a prouder uncle. And now that little boy is to become king. A Warden King, the first in history. A ruler who can give support to the Wardens, waning in recent years. Too many rolled their eyes at how Wardens were relics. Too many did not know all that Wardens sacrificed for them, spitting on their work. Daring to claim that they can do the same or better. But Alistair would be a king who would listen. That, more than anything, is what Wardens needed. 

Just as they needed the other four. Aiden, a skilled commander. Nuada, a talented tactician. Cleon, a brilliant hunter. Layla, a superb mage. Each of them is unique, with an even more unique set of talents, skills. _Power_. That is a power that the Wardens would need in the future, as the world kept changing. That is a power that would make the people, the ignorant people, _listen_. That is what is needed. 

Besides, the young always look better as 'heroes', and this is an age where heroes are needed. Chaos reigns, and he does not doubt that a Blight appearing after so many ages is anything but the beginning of something more. This Blight is the origin of trouble, and the origin of heroes. Those four will make better heroes than he. 

(He admits privately that he does not want Loghain to die either, but that is just for selfish reasons. After all, the man is an idiot; it would be ironic and just for him to end his days as a Warden.) 

With those thoughts in head, he finishes his climb up and waits. The Archdemon is close. He can hear it clearly, and he uses that song to his advantage. The Archdemon might be able to 'hear' him too, but with so much going on, it would not notice until it is too late. 

The Archdemon flies below him, shouting orders to the Vanguard. He jumps down, landing perfectly on top. But the Archdemon rolls immediately, making him lose his footing. He brings his knife down, remembering where Garahel struck, according to the stories. But his footing is too poor, and he misses, simply causing a bad cut as he slips and falls. 

He twists, catching the wing and trying to hold on. But the Archdemon flies straight up, and he knows he cannot hold on. So, instead, he makes a conscious choice, again. He stabs his knife into the wing, and lets go, allowing gravity to let him all but cut off the wing. 

He falls, blood raining down, and he watches the sky grow farther and farther away. But he also watches the Archdemon fall and knows, so long as someone who is not a Warden does not deal the final blow, the Archdemon is pinned. The Archdemon cannot escape. The Blight will end, on this day, in this battle. 

So, he closes his eyes, and smiles. Maybe this is the way old men should go, when heroes were born. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Climbing Drakon with Cleon 


	119. Chapter 104) Unexpected Help

Chapter 104) Unexpected Help 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_"Um… Zaphikel?"_

_"Yes, Cleon?"_

_"What… happened…?" I had heard a scream and had run to help my teacher, only to find Zaphikel in the middle of a bunch of corpses, covered in blood. "Are you okay?"_

_"None of it is mine." Hesitantly, he reached over, likely to pat my head as he always did. He stopped just short, looking at his hand. "Are you afraid?"_

_"No?" I was more confused than anything. "Are you?"_

_"…You're a good lad, Cleon." Still, he pulled his hand away. "I'm going to go jump in a lake to get the blood off. Don't touch anything."_

_"Okay."_

* * *

When I saw the Archdemon fall, I left the Market to Wynne and Lanaya, and took off with Shale and some of the scouts. I wasn't quite sure _where_ it fell, but it fell, and it was missing a wing, so now was the chance to strike. Along the way, I met Nuada's group, including a disgruntled Alistair and a surprisingly injured Loghain, along with some more soldiers. Nuada knew where it fell, and according to his messengers, Layla and Aiden were on the way too. Riordan was also apparently dead. We'd hunt for whatever remained of his body after everything was over. 

When we made it to Fort Drakon, Shale and Loghain remained behind to hold off the darkspawn trying to overrun us. Shale, because golems, and Loghain, because his injuries were making it hard for him to keep up. Nuada didn't sign his argument with Loghain, but I knew that it had been tense. 

But that didn't really matter, at least in my eyes. The inside of the fort had been filled with darkspawn, and so, we had a lot of fighting to do. A lot. Almost too much. We ended up being _very lucky_ when we found a storage room filled with medical supplies. The long battle was starting to wear down on all of us. My arms screamed and my legs were all but numb. I fought more from muscle memory than from any sort of skill. I had so many injuries to my back because of ambushes. I _hurt_. 

But all of that drained away as we came upon an open area, the last 'room' before the staircase to the roof according to Nuada. Why? Well, there were darkspawn corpses all over the place. Not just one or two, but easily twenty or thirty. Maybe even fifty. Fen'harel's teeth, there were _ogres._ Multiple ones, very dead. Or so I assumed by the fact that _their heads had been ripped off by something_. 

Oh, the best part? In the middle of it all was a small, smiling boy, possibly a dwarf. Yeah, there was unexpected, _and then there was this_. 

Nuada seized my hand, and traced out letters. S-A-N-D-A-L. Sandal. I gave him a curious look when I realized it was a name, and Nuada nodded. 'Yes, I know him.' But his shaking hands and wide eyes told me he hadn't arranged this. 'Son of a merchant I like to frequent. He did the enchanments on everyone's armor.' So, this boy who made sure our armor kept us alive a little better… somehow snuck into Fort Drakon… went past all the darkspawn… _killed_ a bunch of darkspawn… and just stood here amidst the carnage? 

I glanced at the boy, who watched us curious. 'Is he explaining how he did this?' I signed. 'Or why he is here?' 

'Enchantment.' What. 'That is all he says. I am not certain he even knows how to say anything else yet.' Oh, well, that was convenient. 'But I think we might want to keep this quiet.' Yeah, I think even a Keeper would want to study the boy a little too closely. 'Oh, his dad is going to be freaking out so much.' 

I would have replied, but ripples in the puddles of blood caught my attention, and I followed them to see the boy approaching us. He smiled happily as he poked at my armor, and it took me a moment tor realize what he was doing. He was checking the enchantments, making sure they held. Was… was that why he was here? Was he here because he wanted to make sure our armor was holding up? Really? 

More ripples in the bloody puddles caught my attention, and I glanced back as the boy went over to check Nuada's armor. I had the _great pleasure_ of seeing Aiden, Layla, Zevran, Leliana, Elspeth, _and_ Morrigan all just stare in absolute shock. I shrugged off their questioning looks. I had no answers. Only the boy did. 

'Well, as delightful as this all is, I am afraid we have a bit of an issue,' Elspeth signed. She pointed behind her before going back to signing. 'The darkspawn exploded one of the walls, meaning they were able to get around Shale and Loghain's defensive line. We are pinned here.' 

'And we will soon be overrun,' Aiden added, his expression fading back to stoicism. I glanced at Layla worriedly, and noticed how pale she was. This was like the Tower at Ostagar, wasn't it? We were going to be overrun, trapped between the Archdemon and whatever forces were already on the roof, and the darkspawn already up there. 

A sharp gesture caught my attention, and all of us turned to focus on Alistair. 'Go,' he signed, hands certain. His eyes were confident. 'Go. I will lead the soldiers here, guard Sandal, and hold the line until we get more reinforcements.' Alistair… 'So, go. End this.' 

'But, to be clear, the final blow _must_ be from a Warden.' Aiden signed 'must' ten times for emphasis. 'Otherwise, everything will be for naught. Only we can kill the Archdemon. Riordan confirmed that.' 

There was nothing more to say after that. I made a point of going over and clasping Alistair's shoulder. He mirrored the gesture, and I smiled. I would tell him, later, that this was actually an important gesture to those of the Sabrae Clan. For now, it simply warmed my heart that he instinctively did as I did, recognizing there even _could_ be some significance. When I stepped away, Nuada gave Alistair a one-armed hug. Layla gave him a full one. Aiden gave no hugs at all, simply stood apart with a nod and a smile, but that was enough. 

The others might have given their own sort of goodbyes, but I paid no more attention. I focused my gaze forward, and walked. Up the stairs, to the door. To the roof. 

As I stepped outside, noticing the swirling clouds overheard, a soldier's corpse skid to a stop right in front of me. A dragon's claw… no, the Archdemon's claw was just two steps away from the corpse. 

Here we go. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Archdemon battle part one 


	120. Chapter 105) Legendary Archdemon

Chapter 105) Legendary Archdemon 

_Layla POV_

* * *

_I was not certain when I realized it. One day, I was cowering away from each spell I cast. Then, suddenly, the next, I was embracing the magic I wielded. The magic that I had feared had become one of my greatest traits. I loved magic. I loved the Circle._

_If I had to guess, though, I would say it was around a year after I came to Fereldan, while Irving showed me a spell. It was hard to be afraid when he made it fun._

* * *

The song in my head made it difficult to concentrate. I suppose it did not help that this was my first 'real' time hearing it; I had been unconscious when it appeared at Ostagar, after all. It was a beautiful sound, ethereal and nostalgic. Honestly, though, if it had not reminded me so much of a demon, I might have just lost myself in it. 

I was not sure if the others had as much trouble. There was truly too much going on for me to ask. 

I conjured up a forcefield as the Archdemon spewed strange purple flames that 'felt' more like spirit magic than actual fire. I held the shield until the soldiers behind me could fix their formation, and then brought it down so that they could charge. My vision blurred a bit as I stumbled back, struggling to breathe. I looked up at the clouded sky, trying to calm and focus. I was running low on mana. This battle was long, too long. 

This would, however, have been much, much easier if the stupid Archdemon had not leapt to an isolated platform where no one but our ranged fighters could reach it. Nuada was working on a plan to let the ranged fighters rest, but I did not know if… 

"All forces down!" Nuada's order cracked through the air, and we hit the ground, uncaring of the blood. Two strangely oversized arrows flew over our heads, thudding into the fleshy under-part of the Archdemon with almost terrifying ease. 

I glanced back to try and figure out what it was, and saw these strange… mounted… oversized… bows. Aiden and Nuada were coordinating them, while Zevran and Leliana flitted around each one. What was…? 

Something took my hand, and I almost called on the Arcane Markings to punch whatever it was. I checked the impulse when I realized it was Cleon, and he was spelling out something in my hand. It took me a couple of seconds to string the letters together: ballista. So, these were ballistae? I had read about them, but this was my first time seeing them. I think, at least. 

'They are old and disused, so they jam frequently,' Cleon signed. I imagined that was why Zevran and Leliana were constantly fixing them. 'But they work, and work well.' Yes, I could see that. The Archdemon tried to bat them away, burn them even, but the ballistae were set up so that they covered an extensive range, too far for the Archdemon to deal with all of them. 

One bolt caught it in the eye. It screeched, releasing a pulse of power that nearly sent me flying, and the threatened storm made the sky fall. 

The rain hammered us, made all the blood run off the side in strange little streams. Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked. I was reminded of Ostagar, and wondered if that storm had been caused by it then, too. I remembered how I had thought it 'suitably dramatic' back then, and Nuada and Alistair had pointed out how it was a bad thing. Rain reduced visibility, and heavy winds would make it even harder for archers to cover. Mud made it harder to move, and the stress of everything led to soldiers making mistakes. Well, there was no mud up here, but the stone was slippery with both blood and rain. 

There was a slight 'change' in the song, and I turned to see a darkspawn had just… appeared in the middle of reinforcing horde. But there was something strange about it. It had a different 'presence', and it was more armored than any of the others. It wore a horned helmet, and wielded a strange blade with green mist clinging to it. 

'I know that darkspawn,' Cleon signed. He glanced back at the darkspawn before looking to me. 'Duncan called it a Vanguard or something.' So, it was a leader? 'It killed Duncan.' …Ah. 

"Shall we?" I whispered, deliberately making my signs light. His response was to grin. "Let us go, then." 

Both of us charged forward, and the Vanguard met us. Cleon blocked the strike, smirking for some strange reason as his daggers caught the blade, and I used the opened guard to slide underneath and strike at a joint with my rapier. It stumbled back, perfectly silent, and made a gesture. Screams startled me, and I turned to see Shrieks targeting the ballistae operators. I saw it gesture again, and I saw the Shrieks suddenly die, bringing more in their place. 

This thing was controlling them. It controlled the darkspawn, possibly to carry out the Archdemon's orders. In a way, you could call it the 'tactician'. 

"I think it's past time for you to die," I whispered. I brought up my off hand and conjured up a spirit blade. I let the Arcane Warrior's memories give me the tactic I needed, and I used blood magic to _make sure I moved right_. 

When the Vanguard swung down, I caught it with the spirit blade, gritting my teeth as my arm screamed and my vision blurred, and called on Arcane Markings to ram the rapier straight through its… did darkspawn even _have_ hearts? If they did, were they in the same location? That… was a question to answer if I got through this. 

Regardless, I rammed the rapier through its chest, and used its shock to bring the spirit blade up to crack the helmet. Cleon leapt from the shadows then, and drove his dagger through the crack, twisting to rip apart the skull. 

The Vanguard fell and, for good measure, I drew my magic into my legs and jumped on what remained of the head, splattering it. The Archdemon roared in fury just a split-second later, and Cleon and I shared a grin. We killed it, and now, the darkspawn were without their tactician. Of course, we were battered and tired, and there were really far too many darkspawn up here, but if we hurried, then maybe, just maybe… 

Vines suddenly twisted over the edge of the roof, crawling towards the darkspawn and wrapping them up as arrows thudded into them, all fatal injuries despite the rain and wind. I turned, confused, and saw… and saw that, for the first time, _we_ had reinforcements. Lanaya, Irving, Greagoir, Neria… Greagoir and Cullen… the dwarf Aiden called 'Kardol'… all the Redcliffe and Fereldan soldiers… they were here. Our army was here, ready to help us finish this at last. 

"The final blow must belong to a Warden!" I heard Aiden shout. "Only we can stop it's regenerating!" Though, it would be at the cost of a life. I remembered Garahel in the Fade, and how he urged us to 'remember him'. Had that his way of warning us? Had that been him showing us the true price, condemned to wander the Fade for eternity? Had it been his way of saying 'find another way'? Ah, if only I had looked into it sooner, then perhaps we could have. 

But I had not. _We_ had not, so now we paid the price. It would all come down to these next few minutes. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Aiden 


	121. Chapter 106) Blight's End

Chapter 106) Blight's End 

_Aiden POV_

* * *

_"Hold your arms steady, Aiden," Mom whispered. She reached around to help me as I struggled to balance the oversized stick she had insisted was a 'practice sword'. "Breathe deep and hold firm. Let the weapon be an extension of your arm and will."_

_"Why are you teaching me weapons?" I asked. We were elves, in an Alienage. No one else knew anything like this._

_"Because, Aiden, I think you will need it." She smiled when I gave her a skeptical look. "Haha, you look like your father when you do that. But call it a mother's intuition." She squeezed me tight in a hug. "Besides, you get to spend time with me~ isn't that fun?"_

_"I suppose." But I doubted I would ever need to know how to swing an oversize slab of metal like she insisted. "How do I keep steady?"_

_"Like this."_

* * *

The darkspawn were in a panic. _Something_ had happened. Not quite sure what. I was a little too busy focusing on not dying to Shrieks that appeared from nowhere. 

But they fell into panic too, and it was easy to kill them after that. Then, though, there was a… strange thing that just made me pause. And I didn't mean the reinforcements arriving. 

"Did it leap _back_ to where we could reach it?" I asked, startled. Why didn't it remain? Yes, we had figured out a way to injure it, but it still kept it away from most of the Wardens. "Why would it do that?" 

"Based on the spastic movements, I would say it flew into a rage," Lord Nuada replied. It was hard to hear him through the rain and thunder. "Is it a pun to say that? It's wing is a little ripped apart, but it did glide a bit when it leapt over." 

"How am I supposed to know?" The Archdemon _screeched_ and a tower of purple… something crashed down. "Well, that's going to suck." 

"It feels like magic." We both exchanged a tired look. "Damn the fact that we asked Alistair to teach us templar abilities?" 

"Let's just charge in." We shared a grin, and did just that, slipping in the rain and blood as we broke through enemy lines, and jumped straight into the purple cloud of magic, neutralizing it so that others could follow. 

From there, I focused on the power in my blood, in the Taint, and threw all of my strength into each blow. It was tiring, and I knew my stamina was flagging, but the blood flying and the Archdemon's screams told me it was worth it. 

It lunged forward, intending to bite me, but Lord Nuada intercepted the blow and twisted, driving his sword up through its jaw, dislodging some teeth. I jumped up and slammed my greatsword onto its neck, leaving a clear gash. One more, and I just might… 

Lord Nuada twisted and struck the leg, knocking it down. We both stumbled back, just staring at the Archdemon as it struggled to stand. We had to end it soon. Otherwise, it would simply bleed out and then… then we would have to deal with this all over again. But who would make the blow? Lord Nuada and I were closest, so logically, it was ours, but… 

"Aiden, Nuada!" Both of us turned as Lady Elspeth called our names. "Should I call the troops back?" she asked, eyes sharp. I nodded, but I noticed Lord Nuada frown. It took me a second to realize why. She was smart, observant. Even now, she held herself firm, tense, with all too-knowing eyes. Why would she-? 

Gasps made me whirl again, and everything focused on Cleon as he slipped out of the shadows and charged the Archdemon, now the closest. Cleon was far faster than Lord Nuada and me. He would get there long before we could. He was… he was…! 

I almost _screamed_ when I realized just what had happened. _This_ was why she had called our to us. To distract us as Cleon got close. This was what she and Cleon must have talked about. Cleon wanted to take the final blow, and had asked her for help. _And she agreed and thoroughly tricked us._

So, all I could do was watch. Watch as Cleon slid underneath the Archdemon as it tried to snag him up in its jaws. Watch as Cleon swung up on its neck, barely able to keep his footing. Watch as Cleon smiled and mouth something as he brought one of his daggers up. Not one of the daggers Fergus had given him, but one of the ones he had been carrying since we left the forest. 

Watch as he slammed the dagger down. Watch as a strange pillar of light erupted from the Archdemon's head. Watch, through the hazy light, as he tried to pull the dagger out, but couldn't. 

I stopped watching when the explosion happened, but that was more because I had been knocked off my feet and sent crashing into a wall. 

The light cleared and I slowly picked myself up. The constant 'singing' that had been in my head was gone. Sunlight broke through the gathered clouds, chasing away the torrential rain. The darkspawn were fleeing. Those things told me that it had been done. The Archdemon was dead. Cleon did it. 

But… but I couldn't even see his body… we couldn't… we couldn't even…? 

"I could use a little help over here!" Startled by the words, I whirled and saw Lady Elspeth half-hanging off the edge of the roof, struggling to stay on. "He's heavy!" she shouted back, looking annoyed. "Stop being miserable and help me before he goes splat and really does die." …What did she mean by…? "I meant now!" 

Automatically, I ran over and leaned over the edge. Cleon. She had Cleon and, if I wasn't hallucinating… he was still breathing. Was it a delayed…? 

"AIDEN!" 

"Sorry!" I yelped, reaching down to grab Cleon's collar. My fingers pressed against his neck, and I thought I felt a pulse, strong and steady. "Is he…?" 

"He won't be alive if you don't help me pull him up." 

"Look, you have the advantage of _knowing what in flames is going on_!" Still, I helped her pull him up, and she rested him in her lap, checking his pulse too. "How?" 

"He will tell you." Her words were certain, and her smile was wry. "I actually don't know much. I just… knew there was a chance, and he wanted to make sure he was the one to gamble." 

"This is what you talking about on the way." 

"Well, actually, we more talked about Morrigan leaving than this, but I think they might be related." She shrugged. "As I said; I do not know much." But he was breathing. He was actually breathing. He was alive. 

"Aiden! Elspeth!" Lord Nuada and Mistress Layla ran over, Mistress Layla looking ready to cry. "Is everything…?" Lord Nuada began. _He_ looked confused, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Lady Elspeth. "My lovely, dearest twin, what _did_ you plot?" 

"I plotted nothing," Lady Elspeth replied with a little pout. "I simply made sure Cleon could do his. Layla, be a dear and check his health, will you? He _is_ alive." 

"And the Archdemon is dead." He pointed over and I saw the Archdemon's corpse burning. "I decapitated it, just in case, and Layla set it on fire." Mistress Layla only nodded as she knelt down, the threatened tears falling even as she smiled. "What's that sound?" 

It took me a moment to realize what he was even talking about. A strange roar filled with happiness, elation. It took me a moment to think of the word. 'Cheers'. That was what the sound was. Those below were cheering so loudly; the sound echoed up to here. 

"There you are!" Slowly, I stood and turned, seeing Alistair running up. He was bleeding from a bad face injury, and crying, but he was also beaming at us. "We did it!" he cheered, coming over to clap me on the shoulder. "It's over!" It… it was. We… did it… we did it. We ended the Blight. We actually won. We just… just… 

Finally, everything started to click and I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. I laughed and screamed and jumped for joy. Nuada and Layla soon joined in, and before, the others on the roof were doing the same, mirroring the soldiers below. 

This felt so unreal. This felt like a dream. But it wasn't. The Blight was over. We ended the Blight. We ended the Blight, and none of us were dead. 

Master Duncan… Thank you for sacrificing yourself that day. Because, thanks to that, thanks to us living… we did your duty. We did what Wardens were supposed to do, in a time frame no one had ever done before. 

Thank you. Thank you. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Epilogue 1, Aftermath with Nuada 


	122. Epilogue - Loose Ends

Epilogue – Loose Ends 

_Nuada POV_

* * *

_Laughter caught my attention, and I looked down at the courtyard to try and find the source. To my surprise, Fergus was, along with Anora. Cailan's face was bright red, making me think the two of them were teasing him again. It was a sight that was slowly becoming more common here in strange Highever, but it was still so strange to see Fergus so relaxed._

_But I was glad for it. I was glad he, at least, was happy with those two. I hoped he could always be happy with them. I would make myself stronger so that he could. That was my silent vow, as a brother, and as a Cousland._

* * *

With a groan, I tossed the letter into the garbage as I walked down the hall. It had been four days since the Archdemon had died, and I swore there were at least _forty_ messages from this Warden Blackwall of Orlais. He was apparently high-ranked there, and demanded answers for how Cleon survived killing the Archdemon. It wasn't like _I_ had the answers. Cleon was still unconscious and the only other person who might have known what was going on, Morrigan, had disappeared the day after everything. 

I smiled at the servants as I passed by, and looked around the castle. It had taken two days to clean the place enough for it to be livable again, and Denerim itself was still broken and scarred. But, the civilian death toll was far smaller than we could have ever hoped, and casualties in general were light. When you added in that this Blight had lasted less than a year, less than six months even, you realized that this was the _least_ devastating of Blights. I had a very bad feeling that people were going to look to this Blight as 'proof' that Wardens were relics and used as a justification for them not needed for the coming age. Of course, that would be a while. Right now, everyone still remembered that four of the 'heroes' were Wardens, and that their rapidly-becoming-beloved-king was also one. 

Quiet murmurs told me that I had reached my first destination, and I peeked into the study. Alistair and Elspeth were already at work, talking with some of the Banns and Arls to coordinate supplies. It might have been a short Blight, but it had devastated Fereldan. _If_ Orlais wanted to invade, they probably could. But I doubted they would. After all, Fereldan had a reputation now, one for the impossible. It had thrown off Orlais's rule, and now, it had defeated a Blight in less than a year, when the next-shortest Blight, the Fourth, had lasted _ten years_. We would be safe until we recuperated, especially since Elspeth knew Empress Celene rather well. 

Elspeth was the first of the group to notice me, and she gave me a small, warm smile. I could see she was tired, but she found something relieving about it. After all, _this_ was what she had studied, not war. She was finally firmly back in her element and she couldn't be happier. 

She nudged Alistair to let him know I was here, and Alistair flashed me a grin before subtly rolling his eyes. He wasn't quite in his element, but I could tell he was having fun learning. He waved me on, silently reassuring that the two of them were fine and I didn't need to throw my weight around as King's Champion, Teyrn of Gwaren. I'd have to visit there in the coming months to see what would need to be done. _If_ I had to rule, then I wanted to rule well. 

It was a mentality Layla had too. With Howe officially declared Oathbreaker, his family had been completely removed from the line of inheritance, leaving Amaranthine to Fergus. He had promptly given Amaranthine to the Wardens, citing that Vigil's Keep would be a much better fortress for building up the organization's strength than the old keep. While we would keep it too, that keep would be geared more towards magical research, with Avernus continuing his work ethically in his tower. All of that meant, though, that a Warden had to serve as the ruler, and in an effort to split the burden and power, Aiden had chosen _against_ being the Arl of Amaranthine. He thought he would have more freedom as the Warden Commander of Fereldan, a title officially given directly from Weisshaupt, if he wasn't tied to the politics. Since Cleon was already being called the 'Hero of Fereldan', slayer of the Archdemon, that left Layla to take up the title. 

As I thought through all the changes and duties the coming months would bring, my feet took me to the… 'guest room', where Anora was 'staying'. Really, she was a prisoner until someone decided what to do with her. Thanks to Loghain being declared traitor, she had lost all her 'political power', and there were many who thought her a threat to Alistair's rule. At the same time, though, she was a beloved queen, and known in foreign courts. I knew Elspeth, at least, hoped that she could serve as an advisor. Alistair was far quieter on the issue, but I thought that he wanted her to live, if only to show her personally that he could be a good king. 

I knocked on the door and waited until I heard a 'come in' before opening it. To my surprise, I found I wasn't the only one visiting Anora. Fergus was here too. "I'm sorry to bother," I said, stepping inside. I frowned, though, as I noticed how tense both of them were. "Then again, maybe I should say, 'hi, I am the convenient interruption.'" 

"Haha, maybe," Fergus replied. Though he remained tense, his smile was fond. "I do need to get back. Anora?" 

"I will think carefully on it," she answered. Her voice was neutral, and her expression was guarded. But she did let it soften with a slight smile. "I thank you for even considering it, I suppose." Fergus's only response was to laugh, before departing, shutting the door behind him. As soon as it clicked, Anora slumped briefly, like a puppet shorn from its strings, before drawing herself up again. "Did you need something, Nuada?" 

"I was just coming to check on you," I told her, taking Fergus's vacant seat. Cold tea hinted that while their conversation had started friendly, it had ended tense. "What happened?" 

"He proposed." …Well, there were about ten thousand things I expected, and none of them were that. "He was very logical about the whole thing, with just the right amount of emotion in his argument. It's clear he'd been thinking the whole thing carefully." 

"Well, that's how Fergus is. When he really cares, he's as careful as they come." I studied her expression. "Do you want an ear? I have two working ones." 

"Barely." She smiled slightly at the little joke, but it soon faded for uncertainty. "Did he plan all of this?" I knew what she was asking. She wanted to know if Fergus had purposely arranged for her to lose the crown, so that he could propose and make her the Teyrna of Highever. Such a thing _would_ be best for our people, after all. Fergus had never planned on inheriting. We had both assumed Elspeth would have taken over after Father retired. He'd need the help, and Anora was skilled. He'd also need help with Oren, and Oren adored Anora. It was easy to see the steps: back her into a corner and offer her 'safety' in the form of his name. No one would think of harming her, not with so many Couslands holding very real power. 

Still… "I'd like to think he didn't." I smiled at her and, tentatively, she smiled back. "I'd like to think that this is something he came up with in the past few days, and proposed because he knows that it would be a good option for you both. I'd like to think that even now, he's thinking of other ways to make sure you continue to be safe." I shrugged. "I suppose you'll have to come up with your own conclusions, though, and make your decision based on that." I made sure my voice was firm. "But, no matter what, even though I have my issues, you are my 'sister'. Do not forget that." 

"…Thank you, Nuada." The words were simple, but her tone conveyed how much she appreciated it, especially now. 

"Do not forget that you are also Elspeth's. I promise she only accepted-" 

"She loves Alistair." Anora's smile softened and warmed. "Do not fret. We already had a discussion about it. It is better than being cheated on again, or dealing with the knowledge that my husband does not think only of me." 

"…Cailan thought of you more than he did anyone else." I hesitated before continuing, "he was going to have a Circle Mage check his health, to see if the…" That would be the wrong word. "He wanted to see if _he_ was sterile, and that was what led to you two not having an heir." She looked startled. "I also know that while he was considering an annulment to the marriage, one of his motivations was hoping you would be happier." 

"…That idiot…" Anora's voice wobbled, and she covered her face to hide how her eyes filled with tears. "That idiot… always thinking of the wrong things…" 

"You never hated him for it." 

"I could never hate _him_. Even with everything, I never could." Her voice cracked then and she slumped in her chair. "I wish we had gotten to have one more talk. I wish I had told him that." 

"I know." I stood up and patted her on the shoulder. "Do you want me to leave you alone?" I wondered if this was the first time she'd let herself cry for Cailan. So much had happened afterwards that I could believe it. 

"Please." She dropped her hands to smile at me through the tears. "Thank you, though, for telling me. It does… make me feel better knowing he thought of me." 

"I figured." I smiled back and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind me. 

Layla was waiting for me. "Is she okay?" she asked softly. I couldn't think of how to answer, so I just shrugged. "Right, that was a silly question." She came over to kiss me on the cheek. "Well, would you like some good news?" 

"I always love good news from a pretty messenger," I teased. She scowled and batted my shoulder. "So?" 

"Cleon is awake." He was?! "Do you want to go see-?" She laughed as I didn't even wait for her to finish, and followed after me as I ran down the hall. I ended up taking two shortcuts to get to Cleon's room even faster. 

I burst inside, noting the cheer and relief in the air. All of our friends, save Morrigan, were crowded around Cleon's bed. 'Oh, hey, there you two are,' Cleon signed with a smile. 'Were you two busy?' 

"Alack, alay, woe is me that your awakening come at such a time!" I joked, unable to keep from laughing. Layla squeaked, and covered her apple-red face. "More seriously, I was just checking on things. If anyone was busy…" I glanced around, and noticed Elspeth and Alistair in the corner. "Well, you can see for yourself. They brought their work with them." 

"It's things that they wanted our opinions on anyway," Aiden explained. He was sitting in a chair next to Cleon's bed, looking relaxed for the first time in days, with Zevran and Leliana on either side of him. "You just missed Sten and Wynne barely keeping Zevran and Oghren from singing some bawdy songs." 

"Well, that's a shame." I took the other chair next to Cleon, while Layla just decided to sit on the bed itself, poking Cleon's cheek. "How's his health?" 

"Wynne says he's fine, though he's in dire need of food." He pointed to Wynne and Sten talking quietly. "They're coming up with a menu for him." He glanced at Cleon. "Though, I suppose an explanation will have to wait?" 

'I am a little too dizzy at the moment,' Cleon signed. His hands shook slightly. 'Everything is rather pretty blurs. I just knew Layla and Nuada came in because of the distinctive blurs.' His smile warmed though. 'But, hey, we are alive and together, and that is way better than we hoped.' That was true. 

"Well, in that case, I do believe it's time to finally break out the good alcohol," I declared dramatically, jumping to my feet. I grinned as Wynne gave me a stern look. "Come now! Alcohol makes everything better! Just ask Oghren!" The room filled with laughter. "I'll be back! I know where the good stuff is kept." If it had moved, then I could just ask Loghain. He wasn't here, of course, but I doubted he'd mind sharing some of his own stash for such an occasion. 

As I stepped into the hall, I noticed something strange. There was a cat in the middle of the hallway, too sleek to be a simple mouser, but no collar to denote it as a pet. More to the point, though, the cat had dark black fur and glittering gold eyes. It reminded me of all the way back in the Wilds, long before this crazy adventure began, when we were in the old ruins and looking for the treaties. 

"Morrigan?" I called softly. The cat meowed in reply, eyes too sharp and serious. "Yeah, he just woke up." She hadn't left, had she? She had waited to make sure he was safe. "Do you want to-?" She ran off, and I sighed. "I suppose that is a 'no'." Still, she had waited. Whatever would happen to them in the future, that alone made it pretty clear to me that she had truly loved him, and he, her. 

So, I shrugged, made sure my smile was in place, and continued on my way. Today seemed like a perfect day to get delightfully drunk, after all. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter – Final Chapter with Cleon 


	123. Epilogue - Coronation

Epilogue – Coronation 

_Cleon POV_

* * *

_I kept my head bowed, ignoring the talks over my head. There was some sort of debate on who would be my teacher. A couple of hunters wanted the job, and now, they were trying to decide who would have it. I wasn't sure if I was pleased at being liked, or mortified that things had come to this._

_A bit of movement caught my attention, though, and I looked up to see what it was. It took me a moment of staring before I realized it was Zaphikel. Though no one questioned the love he had for the Clan, he was known for being distant, aloof. Many said that if there was anyone who could rival my mother as the greatest of Dalish hunters, it was him. I had no idea what he was doing here, though, or why he was watching me so closely. But I continued staring at him, determined to find the answer._

_It startled me when he smiled slightly, and he came over to take my arm. "I'll take him," he declared firmly. The argument ceased instantly, and I knew there were stares. "I want to see if I'm right on his potential."_

_I knew, right then, that I would do everything I could to prove myself worthy. Of his teaching, of my father's blood, of my mother's blood. I would be worthy of it all, even if I had to work forever for it._

* * *

I was told, after eating and giving my own explanations, that the darkspawn had retreated entirely from the surface. That we were in something called 'The Thaw', according to some records, and the Wardens would be hunting down the straggler darkspawn to lessen their numbers. Though, despite their running, it was likely that the darkspawn would remain a threat here for years to come. After all, _thousands_ had congregated here. 

Not that it really mattered to the people of Fereldan. I swore half of the country was here to welcome their new king, and his fiancé. Alistair and Elspeth looked rather nice on the podium. I knew Alistair was giving a speech, of course, but I wasn't paying attention. I already knew what the speech was, as he had practiced it often these past few days with Leliana. And I wasn't required for this part, unlike Nuada and Layla. Nuada was 'King's Champion', after all, and Layla was apparently the Arlessa of Amaranthine now, and both of the titles were being 'officially' recognized here. Aiden would be up later because he was the Commander of the Grey here in Fereldan. 

Me? I was the 'Hero of Fereldan', and would eventually be needed. But, for now, I was thoroughly distracted by just how _adorable_ my niece was. 

Lyna nudged my side, trying to get me to pay attention to what was going on, but I shook my head and continued playing with her daughter, Athela. She had Lyna's hair color and eyes, but her smile reminded me of Tamlen's more than anything. It was hard to see much of either of them in her right now, but I knew that would change as she got older. I was curious who she would take after more. I was curious if she'd ever know what it was like to wander the woods. 

For, you see, Alistair was giving boons to all the allies who fought alongside us. Promises of aid to Orzammar. Less restrictions on mages, and even having a court mage. The one that startled me the most, though, was that Alistair was _giving the Dalish land_. Things would be difficult. It was possible it would fall. But he was actually giving us land to make a home. That was enough to make me cry. Because it meant that Athela would have a stationary home, and just might not know the fear that came with a nomadic life. 

Lyna nudged me, again, and this time I gave her a look. She was thinner than I remembered, far more tired and sad. But her smile was the same, and she was still as clingy as ever. This time, though, she pointed to my friends, and I realized that they were coming over to talk to me. The ceremony itself must be over, then. 

'So, did anything change from rehearsal?' I signed as I passed Athela back to Lyna and walked over to them. 'I told you I wouldn't be paying attention.' 

'And why would you?' Alistair signed, flashing a grin. 'Your sister, niece, and caretaker are here!' Ashalle was lingering in the shadows, though, made uncomfortable by the large crowd. But she had wanted to be here more than anything, to see my day, our day, with her own two eyes. 'Elspeth and I have to mingle a bit, but I wanted to tell you that the people are climbing the gates to see their heroes, so we might need you to head out sooner rather than later.' 

'I wish we were exaggerating the climbing,' Elspeth sighed, her light signs betraying her amusement. The slight shake of her hands betrayed how uncomfortable she was in front of crowds. 'Do be careful, Cleon.' I simply smiled in reply, giving her my silent thanks. For everything, including listening to my selfish request. Her own smile warmed, a silent 'there is no thanks needed. I was glad to.' 

The two of them meandered off, and the crowd soon swallowed up most of the others. Aiden, Nuada, and Layla stayed close to me, though, and we shared wry grins. Today was… an ending to many things. Not any of our friendships, but, as we had discussed these past few days, everyone was taking their own paths. 

Morrigan had left, of course, just as she said. I would not deny the pain I felt at that, but I respected her decision. But she wasn't the only one leaving. Sten was, of course, finally returning home, having delayed his leaving to see this day and celebration. Something about needing a 'full account' to tell the Arishok. We all knew he was just making excuses to stay with us a little longer, and it was touching. I think he was also enjoying cake, and learning how the word 'hero' was similar to the qunari word 'qunoran vhel'. 

But Leliana would also be leaving soon. The Chantry had asked her to guard the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and to help clear a way for pilgrims. I had a feeling she would return before long, of course, to regale everyone with songs she had written. She had threatened as such. 

Shale, startlingly enough, was actually considering seeing if she could return to her 'old dwarf' body. Something about how our 'lack of squishiness' impressed her. I half-wondered if she had just decided she didn't much like the idea of living forever when none of our companions would, but I knew there was no _way_ she'd ever admit to that. Apparently, she and Wynne would travel to Tevinter to look into it, and maybe other things. Wynne, after all, had been declared an 'Archmage', which meant she was no longer bound to stay in the Circle. Or something. I think she just wanted to spend the last years of her life learning, especially when she had no idea when her borrowed time would be used up. But she promised to write, and keep in touch. 

Zevran was debating whether or not to leave, and I knew that he and Aiden had not come up with a compromise that satisfied either of them quite yet, though they were working on it. Aiden had his duties, even more so considering his promotion, and Zevran was still being hunted by the Crows. He worried of bringing that trouble on Aiden and the rest of us during a time where we really had our hands full. Aiden liked pointing out that we were used to excess trouble and, besides, Oghren was staying. Oghren was actually going to join the army, an automatic promotion to general or something. I knew he was also looking into a house for he and his ladylove, Felsi, to live in and have a family together. Basically, trying to put his life back together. It was admirable, though I worried if he'd be able to. The scars Branka left were _deep_. 

'Well, are we ready to head outside?' Nuada signed. He looked the most composed out of all of us, but then again, he was used to public appearances. 'Elspeth and Alistair were not joking about how restless the crowd is.' 

'Will things be all right?' Aiden asked, eyes worried. It amused me that after everything we've been through, _this_ was what made him concerned. 'After all, we are going to be huge targets.' 

'I have a barrier I can put up, and Nuada has a habit of catching weapons,' Layla quickly signed, eyes amused. Her hands shook, though. 'Oh, why must we go outside?' 

'Politics,' Nuada answered with a smile, signs light and even cheerful. It made the rest of us roll our eyes. 'Well, we might get away with just sending Cleon, but come on. We started this adventure together…' 

'So now, we end it together.' Layla still sighed. Her face promptly turned red with Nuada bent down to kiss her cheek. 'What was that for?!' 

'That was a combination of luck, distraction, and I just felt like it.' Nuada's grin showed no remorse, and I knew Aiden was laughing by how his shoulders shook. I had to hide my own grin. 'Aiden, Cleon?' 

'Well, we might as well get this over with,' Aiden signed, looking more relaxed now. I wondered if Nuada had made the little scene for that reason too. 'Cleon?' I nodded in reply, and reached over to tug him and Nuada into a hug. The two of them easily took the unspoken cue and dragged Layla into the group hug. A last bit of courage. 

When we pulled away, we smiled, and headed outside the throne room to greet the gathered crowd, and keep things calm until Alistair and Elspeth came out to join us. 

Yes, this was an ending, and the start of the next story of our lives. Mythal, watch over us as we find our paths. For, even if they lead us to separate places, we would still walk them 'together', in spirit. After all, we had defeated a Blight, and pulled off a miracle. We were stuck with each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Well, here we go. This is the final chapter of Saga of the Wardens, Origins. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> For those curious, yes, this is only the first in the series. Its sequel is Saga of the Wardens: Awakening, which is listed as a separate story for convenience. 
> 
> Again, thank you very much for reading. Pleasant day. 


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